Growing Up Goyle
by Summer Leigh Wind
Summary: Farley Goyle has never had it easy. Not that it was any surprise. It was to be expected with him being the only son of Gregory Goyle and Millicent Goyle née Bulstrode. But Farley supposed he had it better than some (or so he hoped). It had to be better than being Harry Potter's son or even Draco Malfoy's, right? A collection of moments from Farley's childhood and adolescence.
1. Hello, Farley Goyle 10-16-15

_**Hello, Farley Goyle**_

* * *

"No! No!" Rachel's crabby niece screamed as she was manhandled from the floor and away from her blocks.

Rachel, completely undeterred by the eighteen-month old's behavior, laughed. "Hush, hush, Ulyssa. You're getting to see the _baby_!" she told her niece with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Millicent snorted as she shifted her sleeping slug of a son. He was such a dull baby, she mused. He slept more often than he didn't and even when he did cry, it was a low, baying sound that was similar to that of a lamb's rather than the usual ear-splitting pitch.

Though, that was probably for the best, Millicent mused. She probably wouldn't like her son nearly as much as she did if he were the usual, screechy beast that so many infants were. He might be dull from the Goyle blood, but at least it made it easy to care for him. That, she was quite thankful for. Millicent didn't know how she would have handled a finicky baby.

She just might have drowned them then.

Watching as her cousin wrangled the fussy toddler into sitting on her lap, Millicent ran a hand over her son's baldhead. She didn't know why they were bothering to introduce the two. Ulyssa probably would whine all the way through it.

However, Millicent was quickly proven wrong when the toddler stopped crying abruptly.

"There you are!" Rachel cooed at her niece.

The little drooly girl had her eyes fixed on Millicent's son. Pulling out a saliva covered finger from her mouth, Ulyssa pointed at Millicent's son.

Giving the girl an indulgent cuddle, Rachel asked, "What's that, Ulyssa?"

"Baby!" she proclaimed

Millicent's cousin kissed Ulyssa's ruddy cheek. "Yes! That's it, Ulyssa, that's a baby!" she praised.

Too distracted by Millicent's son to care for the praise, the little girl almost tipped out of her aunt's arm in her hurry to grab Farley's face.

Shifting back a little, Millicent scowled. "No, Ulyssa," she scolded.

"Baby!" the toddler wailed in response, struggling to get to Millicent's son.

Sighing in a good-natured way, Rachel gave Millicent a hopeful smile. "Why don't you tell Ulyssa his name?" she suggested.

Rolling her eyes, Millicent did so (not that she saw why they should, Ulyssa couldn't even pronounce her own name). "This is Farley, Ulyssa. Say hello."

The toddler paused in her whining. "Far'y?" she tested.

"That's a girl!" Rachel applauded as she gave the little girl a hug. "How about you say, hi, hm?"

"Far'y! Hi, Far'y!" she chattered, getting to her knees and in a much gentler manner, scooting close to Millicent.

Some of her earlier wariness fading, Millicent brought Farley away from her neck and said to the toddler. "If you like, you may touch him. _Nicely_ , mind you, Ulyssa."

Grinning a gummy smile at her, Ulyssa reached over and gave Farley's face a pat with her sticky hand. "Far'y," she gurgled. "Hi!"

As if to say hello back, Farley opened his eyes for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he closed them again.

"Uh!" Ulyssa exclaimed, open mouth as she looked between Millicent's son, Millicent herself, and Rachel.

Laughing, Millicent's cousin pulled her niece back in her lap and said to the toddler, "Farley said hi back! Isn't he a _good_ baby?"

Bobbing her head vigorously, Ulyssa replied, "Yeah!"

Giving the toddler one more kiss, Rachel put her back on the floor and said, "Why don't you finish your tower for me, hm?"

For a moment, Ulyssa looked like she might throw a fit, but, then, as if by luck, one of the blocks made a pig-noise, drawing her attention away from them.

Watching the toddler go back to her blocks, Millicent remarked, "I was expecting her to slap him rather than be gentle."

"I was too," Rachel admitted with a little giggle. "But I guess all that practice we've been doing with her dollies has paid off!"

Millicent smiled. "You've been practicing for our visit, eh, Rachel?"

"It's not that difficult. Marcus often brings her by, and I knew it was only a matter of time before you'd come over with your little bruiser to visit…" she trailed off, looking a little troubled.

Deducing after a moment that what bothered her cousin was the frequency of Ephram's niece's visit, Millicent reminded her, "You could always tell Marcus that you don't want to watch his disgusting little spawn."

Rachel's face seemed to wilt. "I've…thought about that," she admitted. "Sometimes, I'd rather just spend the day doing other things and not have to worry about a baby, but when I have said no, the next time I see Ulyssa she'll have a mark or just be overly clingy.

"I don't like what it might mean, and I hate even more that I could have kept it from happening by agreeing to watch her - for however long her parents might leave her here in the process."

Millicent scowled. "Disgusting!" she spat. Though, she completely understood why it happened. Ulyssa, from what she had seen, was not the easy baby that Farley was showing himself to be. She was loud, messy, squirmy and a number of other unpleasant things that Millicent knew she wouldn't be able to handle if Ulyssa were her baby.

"Ephram won't hear it, however. He doesn't want to, I suppose. The idea of your brother being so heartless as to hurt his own child _is_ rather hard to swallow," she admitted with a little sigh.

Looking to the giggling toddler on the floor by their feet, Millicent tried to imagine what she might be like if Rachel wasn't so kind. If her cousin wasn't such a bleeding heart.

Ulyssa would be a faint shadow of this toddler, Millicent bet.

Pursing her lips, she told her cousin, "Maybe her visits are a…blessing, Rachel. You've told me it's not possible for you and Ephram to have any children of your own, so this just could be some will of fate to remedy that."

This drew a smile from Rachel as she took out a handkerchief to dab at her eyes. "Quite right, Millicent," she replied in little more than a whisper. "I knew you'd be able to find reason in this awful situation."

"Hmph," she replied in a noncommittal way. She didn't think she'd found reason, simply a possibility. But if Rachel wanted to believe that was why she was getting Ephram's niece dumped on her, she could. Millicent didn't feel it was her place to ruin her cousin's newly formed conclusion of things.

Especially since it'd not be Rachel's life that was ruined because of it.

Bringing her son close for comfort as she watched the toddler playing on the floor, Millicent pitied Ulyssa. No one wanted her, not even Rachel, when it came down to it. The poor, poor girl, Millicent thought as she brushed her lips across her son's head. Merlin, she hoped that nothing happened to her or Gregory.

Farley would end up just like Ulyssa if something did.

* * *

 **To those of you who are new to this fic, hello! I hope you've enjoyed the introduction to some of the main characters of _Growing Up Goyle_. As I'm sure you can discern from the title, this fic's focus is on Farley. However, for this chapter, it went a little slanted and ended up being quite a bit more on Ulyssa. Though, that shouldn't be too much of a surprise. Babies as young as Farley can only do so much in a story. But the focus changes over to Farley beginning next chapter.**

 **And to those of you returning to this fic, I hope you like Ulyssa and Farley's first meeting!**

 **Also , remember chapter are being dated in the index with the point at which they were added to _Growing up Goyle._ I hope this will help with any confusion you guys might feel due to how I arrange chapters upon uploading them to keep the timeline in order.**

 **Thank you so much and please review!**


	2. Row of the Year 10-30-15

_**Row of the Year**_

* * *

Her chubby-faced son on her hip, Millicent screamed, "You're _never_ home! And I'm always _stuck_ with this _dumb_ son of yours!"

"What do you want me to do!?" Gregory roared back as he yanked off his work robe. "They took more than half of the Goyle fortune as restitution for my family's part in the war, and they garnish a quarter from my salary too!"

Letting out a loud, angry noise, Millicent gave her messy ponytail a hard pull as she shouted back at her husband, "I'm not asking you to put in less hours for forever, Gregory! Just for now! I _can't_ keep this up! I'll go mad if I have to spend another day alone with only your stupid son for company!"

"Take him out with you!" Gregory snapped back as he headed for the cupboard where he kept his favorite Scottish Whiskey.

Following after him, step for step, Millicent shrilled, "Don't you dare pour yourself a glass! I want a moment for myself and I won't _ever_ get that if you get yourself smashed!"

Ignoring her as he opened the cupboard's door and reached for a crystal tumbler, Gregory grunted, "I _need_ a glass if I'm going to deal with your harping!"

Eyes going comically wide, Millicent knew that there was no way she'd be able to do what she wanted with Farley in her arms. Putting the baby on the floor, she cast an age line and protective spell around him before strengthening the Silencing Charm she put on him upon his father coming home.

Giving him a strained smile, she said, "Now be a good lad for me." With that, she turned and flicked her wand at her husband's tumbler.

"Ouch!" he yelped, all but throwing the crystal to the floor. Whirling around then, face a furious crimson, he snapped, "That's the best whiskey you can buy in all of Scotland!"

Grinning wide and fierce, Millicent put her hands on her hips and snarked, "Really now?"

"Yes!"

Laughing at her husband, the woman told him, "You are such a dunderhead!"

"What does that make you, then, Millicent? You're the one who agreed to _marry_ me!" he bit back.

Stamping her foot, Millicent shrilled, "What choice did I have? My parents were dead and all I have is that dirty shop that's as profitable as a lame plow horse! At least the light left you _something_ to live off of! I had nothing!"

"You should be thanking me, then! Not acting like a banshee! Without me you'd just be another whore on Knockturn's streets!"

"Oh, please! I'm not as dull as you! I would have _never_ become so desperate!" Millicent argued back. "I wish I had never married you!"

The color drained completely from Gregory's face then.

Troubled by this sudden turn in her rather predictable husband's demeanor, Millicent lost her fighting stance and called, "Gregory?"

He said nothing.

Stepping forward, she waved a hand in front of his face. "What's wrong with you?" she demanded.

"Don't you ever say that again, Millicent," he ordered as he grabbed her wrist.

Jolting at the sudden contact, the woman attempted to pull away. "Let me go, Gregory!" she snapped.

His grip only tightened as a true snarl overtook his heavy features. "Don't, Millicent. If you say that again I might just kill you. Our marriage may have happened for selfish reasons, but I'd never change it."

More intrigued now than scared, Millicent inquired, "Why is that, Gregory?"

He tipped his head to something behind her.

She looked.

There was their son, Farley, staring back at them with his deep baby blues. His young face was one of disinterest as he sucked on his hand. Usually, Millicent would have hurried over to replace his hand with a dummy, but now she tried to understand. They were having a row right in front of him, but he was not in the least bit distressed. How often did they have to fight like this for him to have stopped feeling fear at the sight of their angry faces?

Probably far too often, Millicent had to admit to herself.

"The baby?" she murmured.

Gregory nodded. "I never thought it'd happen, but I love him more than I do my own parents. More than I ever loved my best mate, Vince. I'd marry you over and over if it meant he'd exist," he confided in her.

Pursing her lips, Millicent remarked, "You know, if you love Farley so much, you'd _think_ you'd want to spend more time with him."

"We need the money, Millicent," Gregory insisted. "My mother and father spend like they still have five vaults at Gringrotts. At this rate, Farley's grandchildren will be lucky if they have half the nice things we do. Him and all that come after deserve the very best, Millicent. Merlin knows us Goyles aren't any geniuses, so it's not like we're going to invent anything or start any kind of business that will give us back our old fortune…" he trailed off, shoulders slumped.

Millicent sighed. She hated to admit it, but she understood.

"That's…admirable, Gregory," she complimented.

He looked her way, surprise evident. "You…think so?" he murmured.

Nodding, she went to cancel the spells on her son and sweep him into her arms. "Yes," she affirmed. "Someday I'm sure Farley will appreciate what you're doing even more than I."

"Da," the infant babbled then, little fingers reaching out to Gregory.

Millicent couldn't stop the smile that quirked at the end of her lips. "See? Already he adores you."

Taking Farley, Gregory just stared at his son for a long moment. "You just might be right," he chuckled as Farley gave a pleased shriek as he managed to grab his father's nose with his tiny hands.

"Of course I am," Millicent scoffed even as she hid a broad smile behind her hand.

Bouncing his son in his arms, Gregory offered, "How about this, Millicent? I'll take a day off every month for the next year or so. It'll give you some time to rest away from Farley. Will that make things better?"

Millicent was shocked by the offer, it was better than anything she'd ever expected out of Gregory after their row. Letting her shoulders shake with the laughter that wanted to burst out of her, Millicent swept forward and pressed a grateful, elated kiss to her husband's cheek. "That's perfect, Gregory. Thank you," she said.

He smiled back at her, Farley yammering her arms and for a moment, Millicent felt like they had the perfect partnership her parents had.

* * *

 **Another early, early Farley moment. Again he's too young to have much of a role in this chapter, but this seemed like a nice way to show how Millicent and Gregory's relationship works.**

 **Also , remember chapter are being dated in the index with the point at which they were added to _Growing up Goyle._ I hope this will help with any confusion you guys might feel due to how I arrange chapters upon uploading them to keep the timeline in order.**

 **Thank you for reading and please review!**


	3. Nighthorses

**_Nighthorses_**

* * *

 _He giggled to himself as rolled around in his pool of puffskeins, Farley couldn't have been happier. He grinned at the chorus of hums and purrs that filled the room as he sat up. Getting to his feet, he walked over the uneven ground of puffskeins to the slide he saw at one end of the pool. Clambering up the metal rungs, he hoped that tomorrow night after Mother put him to bed, he could come back here again._

 _Reaching the top of the ladder, Farley was ready to hoist himself onto the red plastic of the swirly slide. However, when Farley looked up, he was made to gasp._

 _A tall, shadowy figure with shimmery silver eyes was grinning down at him with sharp teeth. Shrinking back, Farley did his best not to be scared as he said to the nightmarish being, "Wanna go down the slide!"_

 _The sharp teeth parted to let loose a loud cackling laugh. Shaking now, Farley gripped the sides of the ladder in a death-grip. "Please?" he warbled._

 _Crouching down, the figure's silver eyes flashed red. "No," it said. Then, before he could so much as ask_ why _, the shadow being's hands shot out and pushed Farley._

 _Losing his grip, Farley flailed before his feet slipped from the rung. Falling faster and faster, Farley began to scream. He was going to hit the ground and there he would splatter like the egg he'd dropped the other day when helping his Mother put away groceries! Twisting his head, his shrieks only grew in volume as the ground came ever closer and just as he thought he was going to hit it-_

"Farley! Farley, you daft boy! Wake _up_!"

Eyes popping open, the boy gazed into the haggard face of his mother in silent shock. Realizing he was back in his bed again, Farley burst into tears.

"A-A sh-shadow m-m-man pushed _me_!" he wailed as he reached for his mother.

Helping Farley untangle himself from his sheets, his mother brushed back his sweaty hair as she said, "You just had a nightmare, Farley. Stop fussing."

"A what-mare?" Farley sniffled. He'd never heard about a nightmare before.

Sighing as she pressed him back down onto his pillow, his mother replied, "It's like a dream, but it's scary."

"...Dream?" he muttered, still so confused.

Staring down at him, his mother's face grew very troubled. "How idiotic are you?" she grumbled. "Merlin, I knew that the Goyles weren't known for their brains and I shouldn't expect to have any geniuses, but are you lot _really_ this dumb?"

Still very befuddled and tired, Farley said, "I was in the nice place with the puffskein pool an' I was gonna go down the slide. 'cept when I got to the top, a shadow man was there. He pushed me."

His mother nodded at his explanation. "That nice place with the puffskein pool is what a dream is. The shadow man pushing you was a nightmare. None of it was real," she told him in that grinding, 'I can't explain it better, so you ought to just say you get it now' tone of hers.

"It felt real," Farley eventually told his mother once she started tucking his blankets back beneath his chin.

His mother paused in fixing his blankets and came to brush her large hand through his hair again. "Yes, they do sometimes," she agreed. "The trick is to tell yourself it's not when it happens, though."

"I'll do that next time," Farley proclaimed. Then, after yawning, he said, "Thank you for 'splaining dreams and nighthorses, Mother."

"Night _mares_ , Farley," she corrected as she stood up. "Sleep tight now," his mother finished with before leaving his room.

Snuggling into his pillow as he settled down to sleep again, Farley whispered before falling back into dreamland, "I just gotta tell myself it isn't real..."

It didn't work, of course, but at least he knew that it wasn't real and he'd wake up in his bed with his mother there waiting to tuck him back in again.

* * *

 **So, if any of you are familiar with my other work, _Trouble Through the Ages_ , you'll recognize Farley Goyle. It was pointed out to me that Farley's actually a pretty interesting guy and now that I've had some time to think about it, I agree. Farley is a really fascinating character and I really like all that I could do with him.**

 **And to sum things up, I think this will be a fic in a line of several about Farley.**

 **Special thank you to Lokilette for letting me know you liked Farley too and would like to see more of him!**

 **Thank you all so much for reading and pretty please review!**

 **P.S. Since I'm sure I'll come up with more stories as time goes on, things won't always be in order, but since my brain can't stand things not having an order to them, chapters are liable to be moved around so the stories will happen in chronological order. So, if you read one and later come back to find it's not there, it just might have been moved to a different spot within the story.**


	4. Unplanned Eavesdropping 11-29-15

_**Unplanned Eavesdropping**_

* * *

Farley knew he shouldn't be out of bed, but he was so _hungry._ He hadn't really cared much for dinner tonight. His mother was on one of her diets and had requested their house elf, Babs, make something called _vegetable_ _pilaf._ Unlike his family's usual savory and flavorful dinners of meat pies or casseroles, pilaf was bland and gooey.

When his mother noticed at dinner Farley was just pushing the pilaf around on his plate rather than eating it, she'd yanked him up from his seat and told him to go to bed. Unfortunately for Farley, there had been no chance for him to apologize and attempt to eat the disgusting dish again. His mother had called for Babs immediately after she got Farley to his feet and had ordered the elf to see Farley to his room personally - unless Babs _wanted_ to spend the night ironing his ears.

Unlike a lot of house elves Farley knew and heard about, Babs did not punish himself unless commanded to. Not even when he failed to heed his owner's orders. The deep-seated fear Babs had of physical pain was strange for a house elf according to his mother. It was due to his fears, Babs made a poor excuse for a house elf overall, his father would sometimes say.

Farley, though, quite liked Babs. Babs was always kind to Farley and treated everything he had to say as if it was all important. So when Babs heard Farley hadn't liked the pilaf, he told Farley he would make him something else to eat after Farley's parents went to bed. Pleased by this, Farley had thanked Babs profusely for the offer and informed him he was his favorite elf ever. The runty grey-purple creature had preened under the praise and further swore that what he left for Farley to eat he would be sure to love.

And it was because of that promise Farley was now sneaking through the downstairs hallway to his kitchen. Farley wasn't too good at telling time yet, so when he saw his parents were still in the kitchen sharing a bottle of scotch, he only blamed himself. Sighing in disappointment, Farley turned around to head back to his room. He would come back a little while later, he supposed. However, it was just as he finished that thought he heard his mother say his name.

"-Farley doesn't have to be our _only_ son."

Faced away from the kitchen now, he shuffled back a step and cupped his ear to hear better. Even with this extra measure, Farley almost didn't hear his father's mumbled reply, "It's Goyle tradition to have only one child if the first isn't a daughter."

Scoffing loudly, Farley's mother said, "Tradition! What's the Goyle tradition when that _one_ son turns out to be a squib?"

A chair groaned.

"It hasn't happened in a very long time…"

"So? What's your tradition? The Bulstrodes don't do anything with their squibs beyond keeping them out of the public eye. My mother's family, the Trackleshanks, however, had much different methods. Did you know, Gregory, the last time my mother's side of the family had a squib, he drowned? Accidentally, of course."

Father snorted. "It's a shame the Goyles don't partake in the Trackleshanks's method of pruning the family tree," he muttered.

"We _could,_ though," Farley's mother argued. "Farley's only six and I'm not even thirty-five. It wouldn't be hard to forget him and have a more promising heir."

" _No,_ Millicent!" Father snapped. "I will-"

Farley, with blood rushing hard and fast in his ears, made the stupid decision to run. Thankfully, though, as his bare feet slapped against the polished floors just outside the kitchen, his parents' row escalated to shouting and screaming.

He could be as loud as he liked now. His parents wouldn't be hearing him running up the stairs.

Once Farley was back in his room a few minutes later, he dove under his covers and began to shake. It didn't take much longer for him to realize he was sobbing too. Farley knew what his mother had been trying to get at downstairs. He wasn't good enough. He was bad because he was dumb and because he pushed around his food at dinner and because - because he was a _squib_ (whatever that was).

Now, since Farley was such a disappointment, his mother wanted to _replace_ him with another son.

A son that would be better than Farley ever could be.

* * *

 **This one is a bit shorter than the other chapters I've uploaded lately, but I hope the fact some of you might find Gregory and Millicent's conversation to be familiar will make up for that. This is a conversation Farley references in _Story Buddy._**

 **Also , remember chapter are being dated in the index with the point at which they were added to _Growing up Goyle._ I hope this will help with any confusion you guys might feel due to how I arrange chapters upon uploading them to keep the timeline in order.**

 **Thanks for reading and please review :)**


	5. Story Buddy

**_Story Buddy_**

* * *

Leading Farley into the children's section of Flourish and Blotts, his father gave him a stern look upon reaching their destination. "You will stay here and listen to the children's reading while I take care of business at another store. If I am not back when it's done, I expect you to still be in the Children's section or I _will_ punish you, is that clear? I don't care if someone tells you that I asked them to get you, because I will _not_ be telling anyone to do that, understood?" he demanded.

Farley nodded solemnly. "Yes, Father," he replied. "I won't leave for nothing."

His father's lips twitched. "It's you won't leave for _anything_ , Farley. Merlin, don't let your mother here you use nothing like that again or she'll have a fit."

"Okay, I won't leave for _anything_ ," he said with a smile. This was why he liked his Father best. He was very stern about some things and often threatened him with a spanking if he misbehaved, but he always let the little things go with ease. If Farley spilled his pumpkin juice at lunch? His father just vanished it. If Farley spoke a little too shrilly for where they were? He gave the back of his neck a squeeze to tell him to correct his volume.

Mother on the other hand...if Farley spilled his juice, he'd get an earful. If he was too loud, his mother would make them go home and tell him he should have been better behaved. Mistakes were not allowed to happen with his mother. Farley had to be perfect. But...being perfect was so _hard_. In fact, Farley didn't believe he'd ever had been.

Farley always did something wrong.

The sweet sound of chimes being rung drew Farley's attention back to the world. Looking over to where story time happened at Flourish and Blotts, he saw that other children were starting to sit down on the rainbow braided rug in the middle of the floor.

"I'll see you in half an hour, Farley," his father said, giving his hair a short tousle before turning around and leaving.

Watching his father's retreating back for a moment, Farley waited until he was lost behind the stacks of books before turning back to story time.

Scoping out the children, it didn't take Farley more than a minute to find his story buddy, Freddie. Freddie was pretty distinctive, after all. Most kids didn't have such springy, black curls.

Grinning to himself, he went over and took his usual seat beside the older boy. "Hi, Freddie," he greeted.

"Hullo, Farley," Freddie said back.

Looking around then with big eyes, Farley asked, "Where's Anne?" Usually, Freddie's sister was near by - if not lying across her older brother's lap. Anne was only four and didn't really like sitting still for story time. But, usually, she would if she could lay on top of her brother and play with his curls.

"Oh, she's got a cold. She's home with Mum today. But I begged 'cause today's story is my _favorite_. So, Dad is in the charm's section and will come back for me when story time is over," he explained.

"That's neat," Farley replied. "I'm sorry Anne's sick, though."

Freddie laughed. "I'm not! She's been pulling on my curls extra hard lately!"

Farley gave a shy smile back. He didn't really like talking about people when they weren't around. It made him feel bad because he knew how icky he'd felt when he'd heard his mother and father talking about him. They had been upset that he hadn't done any accidental magic yet. It'd been after they finished complaining about Farley's lack of feats that his mother had remarked, _"You know, the last time my mother's side of the family had a squib, he drowned. Accidentally."_

 _Father had scoffed. "Isn't it a shame the Goyle's don't partake in the Trankelshanks's methods of pruning the family tree," he muttered._

 _"We_ could _, though," Mother had argued. "Farely's only six and I'm not even thirty-five. It wouldn't be hard to forget him and have another, more promising heir."_

 _"_ No _, Millicent!" his father had snapped._

Having not wanted to hear more, Farley had turned heel and ran all the way back to his bedroom.

He'd never cried more in his short life.

"-ly? Farely!"

Snapping back to the present when he felt a hand on his knee, Farley met Freddie's worried gaze. "Huh?" he mumbled.

Dark eyes big and concerned, Freddie asked, "You okay? You got spacey like Dad sometimes does."

"Yeah, m'fine," Farley grunted. "Mister Whitby is gonna start reading in a second, so we should be quiet now," he proclaimed as he clenched his jaw tight and settled it onto his fists.

Freddie gave him a confused look, but said nothing. After another few seconds of staring dubiously at Farley, Freddie joined him in watching Mister Whitby open the day's storybook and again, like Farley, lost himself in the story when he began to read it.

Thirty five minutes later, when the story was over and other children were being collected by their parents, Farley was playing with some of the hand puppets that were for sale with Freddie.

"Oink! Oink!" Freddie had yelled as he shoved a pink felt finger puppet in Farley's face. "I like to eat garbage!"

Laughing Farley had grabbed a frog one and shouted, "Well, ribbet! Ribbet! I live in the _mud_!"

Freddie smirked and opened his mouth to say something, but a man's voice called out, "Fred! Kiddo! Where are you?"

A wide smile overtaking his features, Freddie poked his head out from behind the puppet stand and called, "I'm here, Dad!"

Putting his own puppet away, Farley follows his friend out from behind the stand to a pale, redheaded man standing not more two feet away. Farley blinked as Freddie went and hugged him. That was his dad? They didn't look a like at all!

He wanted to ask why that was, but he knew that was a bad idea. Mother said those kind of questions were rude and he didn't want to make Freddie's dad mad at him.

"Hey, Dad, meet Farley! He's my friend!" Freddie said with a grin as he dragged the all man closer.

Putting on his best smile, Farley mumbled, "Hullo. It's a pleasure t'meet you."

"Back at you, kiddo," Freddie's dad said with a grin. "Say, where's your mum or dad? Freddie's been talking about you for weeks. I think it's high time we set up some kind of playdate."

Farley started looking around, hoping that his father would appear. "Ummm..." he replied. "My father should be back soon."

Nodding, the redheaded man reached for one of the puppets and told Farley, "I guess we'll just have to entertain ourselves until then, hm?"

Farley smiled when the man winked at him. He liked Freddie's father; he was wicked.

Eagerly, Farley picked a puppet of his own as Freddie grabbed one too. Together, they played quite happily for the next several minutes when finally, his father appeared.

"Farley!" he barked. "What are you doing?"

Jumping, he put down the puppet immediately and looked over to his father. "Just playing, Father."

Lumbering forward, Farley's father glared at Freddie's. "Weasley," he growled as he put a hand on Farley's head.

Freddie's father stared at his, stunned. "You're this kid's father," he said.

"Of course." Farley's father sneered. "Can't you see the resemblance?"

Looking between him and his father, Freddie's father shook his head. "No, I don't," he replied simply.

Growling some more, Farley's father yanked him hard and said, "We must be going."

Walking them quickly from the shop then, Farley felt tears gather in his eyes when his father declared, "You certainly won't be going back to _that_ story reading again!"

"But Father-"

Turning him around, his father shook him hard and roared, "There are no _buts_! I will not have you socializing with _dirt_ like them!"

Cowering then, Farley couldn't stop himself from crying - not even when his father threatened to spank him. And especially not when he carried through on his threat and took Farley over his knee.

Not once did he stop crying.

His father had stolen a friend from him and Farley didn't believe it could ever be made right again.

* * *

 **And that's the story of how Farley lost his first and only Wotter friend.**

 **Thanks for reading and please review!**


	6. Soaring 7-3-16

_**Soaring**_

* * *

"Farley, come here."

Farley eyed his mother sideways. He did not like the sugary tone of her voice _at all_. Carefully turning so he was facing his parents head on, he took in the eager expression his mother wore and the way it contrasted with the scowling one of his father. The last time his mother and father looked like that was before he was forced into dress-robes and made to grin at a painter as they created a portrait of his family.

It had been a far from pleasant experience and the last thing he wanted to do was repeat it. Frowning, he took a step away from his parents.

His father's face darkened. "Farley, come here. _Now_."

Clenching and unclenching his hands, Farley considered his options. Mother and Father would hex his legs into jelly if he tried to run – like when he was really little and didn't want to take a bath. If he threw himself to the floor and started screaming, he would get a spanking. If Farley cooperated… Maybe it would be over quicker. Sticking out his lower lip to show his parents' his displeasure, Farley took a reluctant step forward, then another.

Suddenly, his mother snatched him from the ground.

"Ready your wand, Gregory!" she shouted.

Terribly confused and a little scared as his mother ran them toward the upstairs landing, Farley only had a moment to register what was happening before he went soaring over the stair's railing. Screaming, Farley twisted in mid-air, catching a glimpse of his parents staring down at him as he fell.

 _'_ Why?' he wondered. 'Why?'

Suddenly, Farley felt his body hit what felt like cushions. How could that be? The downstairs floor was wood and there was no way his parents would have put down cushions on the floor to save him if they threw him off the landing in first place.

Sitting up, Farley looked down and realized that the floor was still wood. It just felt soft like sofa cushions. Magic had saved him.

Above, he heard his mother crow, "He's a wizard! I _told_ you if we forced him, he'd do magic!"

His father said nothing. He just continued to gaze down at Farley.

Farley stared back. He didn't get it. If his parents had wanted to see him do magic, why hadn't they just _asked_? He could have made his shirt stain-free after a lunch of stew or made his favorite books (his parents Hogwarts yearbooks) float down from the top shelf of the drawing room's bookcase.

Why did Mother always act like Farley had to be forced to do things? Like eat his peas at dinner or be nice to Scorpius Malfoy at Ministry Christmas Parties. It was like she thought he was a stupid dog or something! Maybe he was sort of a dummy, as Ulyssa often told Farley when he forgot the rules to easy card games, but he _liked_ doing stuff for people. Especially if they asked nicely and said please (like Missis Flint).

"You alright there, son?" Father called when Mother's cheering died down.

He nodded.

"Then get up here. Your mother and I have a gift for you."

Farley gnawed his lip, leery of what his gift could be.

"If you don't get up here in the next ten seconds, I'll throw it over the landing _at_ you, Farley Goyle!" his mother snapped.

Scrambling to his feet, Farley raced toward the stairs. The last thing he wanted was to have his present thrown at him. When he was back beside his parents, Farley relaxed. Between them was a long, thin box with a big green bow on it.

"Wow," he whispered.

His father pushed the box toward him. "Open it, Farley."

"Okay!" Farley replied. Taking hold, he pulled off the ribbon and pried open the lid of his present. "A broom!" he exclaimed, overjoyed.

Father's hand ruffled Farley's hair. "You'll be old enough for the ten and under swivenhodge team try outs this summer. I thought it best we finally buy you a broom of your own to practice for them on."

Hugging his gift close, Farley beamed. "Thank you, Father, Mother."

They smiled back, pleased at his use of manners. "You're welcome, Farley," Mother said. "You deserve it, my _magical_ little wizard."

Forcing his grin even wider to keep it from falling, Farley did his best to ignore the icky feeling in his tummy. Not even ten minutes earlier his mother had thrown him over the upstairs landing to make him do magic. This gift – as nice as it was – was given to Farley to cover up the bad feelings that came with thinking you may die; the sadness of knowing your parents were the ones to make you think you might. This was a _bribe_. Just like that money a rich witch gave a Ministry official to make them keep quiet about her selling illegal potion ingredients (dragon eggs, the hearts of infants, unicorn horns) from the news story on the Wireless.

This new broom was Farley's as long as he kept quiet about Mother and Father throwing him over the stair's railing. If he didn't want to lose it before try outs, he'd have to be good and not tell _anyone._ Even Ulyssa could never know. Keeping his smile nice and dimpled, Farley asked, "Can we go try my broom out?"

Father nodded. "Yes," he said. "Come along."

When his father's hand was offered to him, Farley didn't even hesitate to take it. He would not forget this day any time soon, but he had to pretend like it was already years and years ago until it really felt like that and all the bad feelings were gone.

* * *

 **It's been a while. Thoughts on this piece?**

 **Also , remember chapter are being dated in the index with the point at which they were added to _Growing up Goyle._ I hope this will help with any confusion you guys might feel due to how I arrange chapters upon uploading them to keep the timeline in order.**

 **Thank you guys for reading :)**


	7. Winter Snow Cones

_**Winter Snow Cones**_

* * *

Coming into his family's dingy olive-green kitchen, Farley grinned broadly when he saw his father was sitting at the table. The man was drinking tea as he read the paper.

"Father!" he shouted happily. Running forward, he almost fell as his foot slid out of his slipper, but before he could, his father whisked him up into his arms.

Smirking, his father greeted, "Farley."

Unable to contain his exuberance at the fact his father was home _all_ day for his birthday, he wrapped his arms around his thick neck. "You're here just like you said!" he exclaimed.

Patting his back before setting him down in one of the kitchen chairs, his father said, "I said I would be. It's not everyday you turn seven, after all."

Smiling still, he replied, "I know. I'm just extra happy."

"That's good," his mother remarked as she came over to put a plate of waffles in front of him. "You should be on your birthday."

Staring at the special birthday treat, Farley grabbed his fork and jabbed it into the fluffy treat. "Waffles are the best!" he proclaimed as he lifted the entire thing up to chomp into it.

"Yes, that might be so," his mother agreed as she gently took the fork and waffle from him. "However, a _proper_ pureblood boy cuts up his waffle instead of eating it off his fork like a monkey."

"Sorry, Mother," he apologized.

Finished with cutting up his breakfast, she gave his hair a quick tousle. "No worries, Farley. Today is your day, we won't make a fuss about it now."

Farley grinned at her, and when he saw her eyes were shimmering with glee as well, his grin stretched so wide that his cheeks dimpled as they often did when he smiled with all his teeth. "Thank you, Mother!" he chirped.

Having gone back to his paper, Farley's father muttered, "I wish you'd do the same for _my_ birthday, Millicent."

"Hush, you. You're a man. Not a little boy. You should _already_ know how to eat properly!"

Paper shifting as he turned the page, Farley's father only scoffed.

Giggling a little when he realized they weren't going to have a row this morning, Farley thought about how much he loved his birthday. On his birthday, his parents were always their nicest. They let him behave however he liked (within reason), they were much more affectionate and if his father could, he'd wrangle the day off work so he could take Farley wherever he wanted for the day.

Farley had given it a lot of thought over the past week and he now knew where he wanted his father to take him. He wanted to go to an ice cream parlor and get a snow cone. It'd been forever and an age since he last had one and even though it was quite cold out, a snow cone seemed like the perfect way to celebrate his birthday.

"So, Farley, have you decided where you and Father are going to go today?" Mother asked as she took her usual seat with a cup of tea in hand.

Bobbing his head, the boy said, "I have! We're going to the ice cream parlor."

His father put down his paper as Mother raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Don't you think it's a bit cold?"

"Yeah, a little. But I want a snow cone," he told them.

Mother smirked. "He's certainly your boy, isn't he Greg? Thinks with his stomach - just like you."

Father scowled, but said nothing. Fidgeting, Farley asked, "So? We're going to go, right?"

"Yes, Farley," Father replied. "Finish your breakfast. Your presents are waiting for you in the dining room."

Not having to be told a second time, Farley stuffed his cheeks so full of waffle that he nearly choked before he dashed off to the next room with his parents close behind.

-v-v-v-v-v-

"Thank you, Father!" Farley said as he accepted the cherry-red dome of ice handed to him.

Taking a seat across from him, his father nodded as he leaned forward to place his chin in his palm. "You're welcome," he replied.

Taking a bite, the boy smiled at the sweet flavor and rough texture. "Father, do you know that my birthday is my most favorite day of the year? Even more than Guy Fawkes Day?"

Passing him a napkin, his father commented, "I think most peoples' favorite day of the year is their birthday."

"Maybe," Farley agreed after a moment. "But it's not just my favorite because of that. It's also my favorite because it's the only day out of the _whole_ year you and Mother don't fight."

His father opened his mouth, but said nothing.

Undeterred, the boy continued, "I bet that's not why most people say their birthday is their favorite day of the year. I was talkin' about birthdays with Ulyssa when Mother and me went to visit her aunt, Misses Flint. She said her favorite part about birthdays is the presents, but I think those are only okay. I like playing with you and Mother more than I do toys. When I told her my favorite part is you don't fight with Mother _all_ day, she said that's a weird thing to like because parents are only supposed to have rows when you're sleeping or gone."

Stirring his spoon in the pink water that was left over from his snow cone, Farley cocked his head. "She was wrong, right? I thought parents can fight whenever they like."

"Yes," his father murmured while keeping his eyes on the tabletop. "Parents can fight whenever they like."

Grinning broadly, Farley clapped his hands. "I was right!" Frowning then, he leaned in and whispered to his father, "I'm not right a lot, you know."

The man sighed and looked up with tired eyes. "Us Goyles rarely are," he said. "Come on, we best be going now that you're done."

"Okay!" Farley agreed as he got up and threw his spoon and and cone in the rubbish bin.

Taking his hand upon returning, Farely's father asked him, "How would you like to stop at the park for a bit of swinging before we go home?"

"That'd be wicked!" Farley exclaimed joyfully. His father almost never took him to the park and he'd _never_ offered to go swinging with him before! And it was because of his father's suggestion that Farley decided this birthday would go down in history as the best birthday ever.

* * *

 **So, I hope it's quite clear who both his parents are now. Millicent Bulstrode is his mother and Gregory Goyle his father. So, what did you think of Farley's little birthday celebration? How do you feel about him so far?**

 **Thank so much for reading and please review!**


	8. Holiday Envy

_**Holiday Envy**_

* * *

"Farley!" Ulyssa shouted.

Turning around, the boy smiled at the the pleasant surprise that was his friend. "Hullo, Ulyssa! What are you doing at the park?"

The girl pointed toward the bench where her father, Marcus Flint, was smoking a cigarette. "Father was tired of being cooped up in the manor. Mother's helping Grandmother take care of my Great-Grandmother. She's sick, you see."

"Ah," Farley replied. "Are your aunt and uncle busy too?"

The girl bobbed her head, causing her messy dark hair to fall out of its loose ponytail. "Yes, she and Uncle Ephram are away on holiday. They've promised to bring me back a souvenir!" she enthused.

Farley grinned at his friend's joy, he was happy her aunt was going to bring her something home. She'd deserve it after having to spend so much time in her father's company. Mister Marcus Flint was very different from his brother. While they were both taciturn, Mister Ephram Flint's silence was thoughtful and he made up for it with smiles and expressive movements of his eyebrows. Mister Marcus Flint however...his silence was empty. He gave no indication he heard you or was thinking of anything, his face was so stoic. Farley often wondered how they could be so different when they looked so alike, but he had yet to find an answer that satisfied him.

Tuning back into Ulyssa, he made sure to smile at her."...They've gone to Portugal," Ulyssa babbled as she climbed the ladder of the monkey bars. "They said they'd be staying by the beach. Aunt Rachel said she'd bring me home a starfish! Isn't that wicked?"

Climbing up behind Ulyssa, Farley bypassed her in favor of hanging off one of the bars as Ulyssa continued to cling to the bar beside the ladder's top rung. Sighing happily, the little girl continued, "She said if her and Uncle Ephram liked Portugal, they were going to buy a vacation home there. And if that happens, they'll take me on holiday with them next time! Isn't that neat, Farley?" she gushed.

It _was_ neat. But even so, Farley could only think about how unfair it was. He wished _he_ had family that was on holiday to bring him back a souvenir. Alas, both his parents were only children and his grandparents were all very severe. None of them dabbled much in holidays - let alone bringing home presents. Ulyssa had a fun aunt and uncle to take her places and all he had were his parents. Yes, he loved his parents, but they weren't _fun_. Mother was always telling him to behave like a proper pureblood boy and father worked most of the time. It just wasn't fair that Ulyssa was going to not only get a souvenir, but that she was going to get to go to Portugal at some point in the future.

An ugly little ball of envy and irritation unfurled in his gut as Ulyssa continued to chatter about all the exciting things her aunt and uncle were doing. As she went on and on, he felt his anger finally bubble over when she laughed and told him that _she_ would bring him back a souvenir when she went to Portugal!

Not thinking, he swung forward on the monkey bar he hung from and kicked her in the stomach.

Shock flitted across Ulyssa's features as she lost balance and fell.

His own mouth falling open, Farley was not surprised when he felt himself being wrenched from his bar.

"Farley!" his mother shrilled. "What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing?"

"I-I-" he stuttered.

Swatting his bum, his mother shoved him toward the bench she'd been previously sitting at. "Go take a seat, young man!" she ordered.

Farley hesitated, but a moment later he began to slowly trot toward the bench just like his mother told him to. Straining his ears, he heard his mother ask, "Are you alright, Ulyssa? I don't know what got into him..."

"I'm fine, thank you, Misses Goyle," Ulyssa replied tearily.

Ulyssa's father's gruff voice growled, "You should have better control of your little brute, Goyle."

"I'd watch how you talk to me, Flint," his mother snapped back. "At least _I_ actually take care of my child, unlike some people's wives!"

Mister Flint made a guttural noise.

Turning around out of fear for his mother, Farley relaxed when he saw the man stalking away with Ulyssa in hand. Like his mother, he watched Mister Flint gather up his things and disapparate away with Ulyssa. When they were gone, his mother turned around.

"I told you to go to the bench!" she snapped.

Farley, not looking forward to being spanked again, turned heel and hurried to comply to his mother's command.

* * *

 **What do you think about this scene between Farley and Ulyssa? He wasn't very nice to her in this one...**

 **Thanks for reading and please review!**

 **P.S. To remind everyone one more time, since I'm sure I'll come up with more stories as time goes on, things won't always be in order, but since my brain can't stand things not having an order to them, chapters are liable to be moved around so the stories will happen in chronological order. So, if you read one and later come back to find it's not there, it just might have been moved to a different spot within the story.**


	9. Shock in the Wardrobe

_**Shock in the Wardrobe**_

* * *

Letting go of his mother's hand as soon as they have stepped out of the floo, Farley made a bee-line for the gangly little girl sitting at the kitchen table having tea.

"Hello, Ulyssa," he greeted as he slipped into the chair beside her.

Putting down her mug, the girl bobbed her head and said, "Hello, Farley."

Reaching for a biscuit from the middle of the table, Farley made sure to finish it before he spoke again. His mother would have his head if she noticed that he was talking with his mouth full and the last thing he wanted was to get spanked in front of Ulyssa and her aunt.

"Are your parents away again?" Farley asked as he reached of a second biscuit.

The girl shook her head as she took a biscuit as well. "No, today Mother was in a foul mood and just didn't want me around," she explained without any indication of it bothering her.

It was strange to Farley how easily Ulyssa took her parents frequent rejection of her, but he supposed her Aunt and Uncle, Mister and Misses Flint, made up for her lackluster parents.

After all, Misses Flint was the sweetest woman Farley had ever met and he liked her heaps more than he did his own mother. Sometimes he wished that _his_ parents would just leave him here for days at a time - just like Ulyssa's.

It would give Farley a chance to get away from listening to his parents insult and berate each other, anyway.

Finished with her biscuit, Ulyssa hopped off her chair and declared, "We should go play Hide an' Seek!"

Stuffing the rest of his treat in his mouth, Farley nodded eagerly before they hurried past his mother and Ulyssa's aunt on their way to the staircase.

Upstairs was the best area to play Hide and Seek at Misses Flint's house. Upstairs had all five of the home's bedrooms, a study, two bathrooms and a tiny room that Mister Flint used to practice his trumpet in. Like his family, the Flint's came from old money, which meant that over the years all of these rooms had come to be overly stuffed with things both necessary and unnecessary.

It gave an eight and nine-year-old like Farley and Ulyssa endless hiding spots and uncountable hours of fun.

Reaching the top of the landing, Farley didn't stop running as he yelled back to his friend, "I was seeker first last time!"

"Aw, Farley!"

Laughing, he threw open one of the many doors as Ulyssa started counting.

A moment later, he ran out of the first room and threw open a couple other doors before picking one of the guest bedrooms as his hiding area. Going into the room, he looked around. Not the bed, that would be too easy, he figured. Maybe under the settee? No...Eyes going to the tall, narrow wardrobe against the far wall, Farley knew that it would be his hiding place.

Creeping over, he opened the door very slowly to keep it from being noisy. Once it was open, he smiled when he saw a number of robes and dresses hung up within it. Climbing in, Farley pulled the wardrobe doors almost completely closed before curling up in one corner of the closet.

Giggling silently to himself, Farley did his best to ignore how closed-in he felt. It would be worth it, he hoped. Such a great hiding place like this would surely cause Ulyssa to surrender, right?

Smiling to himself, Farley listened with strained ears for Ulyssa to come into the room. After a long while, she did. He could hear her muttering to herself as she moved around and eventually, he heard her come up beside the wardrobe.

"Why did I suggest Hide an' Seek?" she grumbled.

Abruptly, the doors to the wardrobe closed completely.

"Farley! Are you in there?" the girl called as he heard start her tugging at the door handles. "Ooh! Stop holding it closed! I _found_ you!"

Farley frowned as he crawled over to try pushing at the heavy wood. "I'm not holding it closed!" he yelled back to Ulyssa.

"Then why is it not opening?" she demanded.

Feeling a little scared now, the boy said, "Maybe it got jammed?"

"Maybe..." she replied, her suspicion clear in her tone.

Giving the wood a pound with his fist, he told Ulyssa, "Would you get your aunt? It's really small in here and I don't like it anymore."

"Hang on, let me try a bit longer."

"No, Ulyssa!" Farley cried. "Get your aunt! I don't like it in here! It's dark and small!"

He heard her sigh. "Don't be a baby, Farley!"

Biting his lip, Farley was going to ask her once more to get her aunt when he felt something run across his leg. Jumping to his feet, Farley screamed.

Less than a minute later, the doors of the wardrobe were thrown open to reveal his mother and Misses Flint with their wands raised.

Tears in his eyes, Farley threw himself at his mother. "S-Something ran across my leg!" he cried.

Catching him, his mother straightened him out and began to run a hand up and down his back. "It's your own fault for hiding in a wardrobe without searching it properly," she scolded. "Now, stop your blubbering."

"Ah, here we are, it was just a mouse, Farley," Misses Flint told him as she levitated the tiny, brown creature in front of his face.

Sniffling, Farley stared at it. "I didn't know what it was, it was too dark to see," he told the kind woman.

Eyes twinkling, Misses Flint laughed. "Don't fear, lad, I'll let my husband know about our little infestation when he gets home and you won't have to worry about running into any more."

"Okay," Farley mumbled as he hunched his shoulders.

Lightly stroking the back of his neck, his mother suggested, "Now, why don't you and Ulyssa come down to the parlor and play Snitch Snatcher!?"

"Yes, Mother," Farley agreed.

He'd had enough of a scare today and he wasn't interested in the chance of encountering something even worse than a mouse while playing Hide and Seek with Ulyssa.

* * *

 **I hope you liked this expansion on Farley's childhood and his friendship with Ulyssa Flint!**

 **Thank you a ton for reading and please review!**


	10. My Father, The Fiend

_**My Father, The Fiend**_

* * *

It had been a normal morning. The usual kind of spring day he'd experience many times over the course of his young life. It was blustery and cool enough that he and his father were dressed in thick robes, and both of them wore the scarves that his Mother had made for them around their necks. It was a Sunday - the usual day that Farley and his father went to church (Mother never went as she called all religion rubbish and refused to even consider the idea of there being a god).

However, that was where normality ended that day.

Walking the usual path to their church, after getting their usual pastries at the bakery down the street from it, Farley and his father hadn't paid the people they were passing much mind. Talking about Farley's upcoming swivenhodge game, where he'd be facing off against Ulyssa Flint, was much more important as far as they were concerned. Maybe, though, it hadn't been as important as they thought because suddenly, Farley's father crumpled to the ground.

On top of him was a very fat and very angry woman. At the top of her lungs, she was screaming, "It's your fault! It's _your_ fault! _IT'S YOUR FAULT_!"

Stumbling back from his father and the mad woman with wide eyes, Farley couldn't look away. His father, while struggling to get the woman off of him, choked out to him, "Go, Farl-!"

"My Stacey killed herself because of you!" the woman shrieked, her beefy fingers wrapping around Farley's father's throat.

"Father!" Farley cried, terrified that this bear of a woman would kill his father.

Suddenly, he was shoved out of the way be two tall men. "Claire!" one yelled, "Let him go! It's not worth it!"

Her crimson face turned to look at the men. "Stacey _said_ it's what _he_ did that made her kill herself! He has to _pay_!"

The younger of the two, a wispy fellow, clutching a bundle that Farley could now tell was a baby, said, "Don't make Joan lose her granny this week too, Claire, please!"

Father, still red-faced and sputtering, continued to fight as the wispy man worked on reasoning with the irate woman. Jogging the infant, the man begged one more time, "Joan will need you, Claire. No one knew her mother better than you."

The woman's hands went slack and she rolled off Farley's father. On her knees, she wailed into her hands as Father got to his feet as quickly as he possibly could. Once up, he jerked his head at Farley. The boy needed no more indication for what his father wanted. Hurrying over to his side, the two of them disaparated away from the scene.

A few moments later, they were stumbling over the wood-chips of the park Farley often frequented with his parents, Misses Flint and Ulyssa. His father, pale and wide-eyed, led Farley by the hand to one of the benches behind the monkey bars.

Sinking into weathered stone, his father began to shake as he buried his face in his hands.

Still scared and now terribly worried, Farley laid a hand on the man's broad shoulder. "Father?" he whispered.

He didn't look up right away, but when he did, his eyes were rimmed red. "I'm sorry, Farley," he murmured. "Merlin, you must have been scared enough to piss yourself."

Farley was uncomfortable enough as it was, but to hear his father say something so... _frank,_ it really drove things to a new level. "Kind of," he replied. "Father..." he trailed off, gnawing on his lip as he thought of the best way to pose his question. "How's it your fault some lady killed herself?"

Face dark and brooding now, Father turned his head away. "I did a lot of bad things as a young man, Farley," he told him. "I hurt others and fought for the wrong side. I even spent a year in Azkaban for what I'd done. Farley, your mother and I always planned to tell you, but not this soon. We had discussed it not too long ago and thought maybe we'd tell you next year, and if we couldn't find the resolve then, before you left for Hogwarts.

"I don't think you or me are ready to discuss details now, but I'm sorry son. Your father is a fiend and that's what I always will be to everyone who's not lived as I have."

Taking this all in with a rolling stomach, Farley didn't know what to say. Instead, he shot forward and wrapped himself around his father. "You're no fiend to me!" he declared.

His father came to rest a hand on the back of his neck. "Thank you," he whispered into his hair.

But even as he clung tighter to his father, Farley could not hide himself from the bruises that were already blooming on his father's neck. He could not hide himself from the fact that this could happen again. He could not shield himself from the possibility that someday, one of those his father wronged could kill him.

Most of all, though, Farley could not hide from the gut-wrenching certainty, if someone did kill his father, the world would cheer.

* * *

 **You have to wonder, you know, what kind of treatment children of Death Eaters and Death Eater wannabes must have witnessed their parents go through in public growing up. Some of them, I bet, saw very scary things - which is what has happened to Farley here.**

 **Thank you for reading and please review :)**


	11. What If?

_**What If?**_

* * *

When Farley woke up that morning, he'd thought it be like most mornings. He'd get up, use the loo, wash his face and change clothes before going to eat breakfast. He'd walk into the kitchen where his parents would be bickering about something or other. Maybe it would be about the fact that Father snored all night, or that Mother forgot to press his tie, but they'd be sniping at each other. Just like they did every day of the year besides his birthday and sometimes Christmas.

However upon walking into the kitchen, he knew this morning was different from usual.

His mother and father were leaned over the newspaper. The two were murmuring to themselves about what was in it.

"Poor Montague," mother tutted. "His sister marrying a mudblood is bad enough, but _flaunting_ it like this in the paper? Does that girl have no shame?"

Father grunted his agreement. "And to think, her father died for the cause..." he sighed.

Taking the paper and balling it up, his mother threw it in the fire. "If you see Montague at work, please give him my condolences."

"I'll give him both of ours," Father proclaimed as he went back to the rest of the paper.

Still standing in the doorway, Farley tried to make sense of what he'd just heard. Someone, a girl, had married a mudblood, or as his parents told him to call them in public, a muggleborn.

It wasn't just any person, though, it was the sister of someone they knew, but also someone Farley did not. That likely meant they'd been Slytherin and just a passing acquaintance. No one truly important, but well enough known to feel sympathy for over their misfortune.

Walking the rest of the way to the table, Farley accepted the bowl of porridge as it was handed off to him. Reaching for the pitcher of pumpkin juice, he poured himself a glass . He wondered what his parents would say if it was a friend of the family who did something so vile.

Or, better yet, what they'd do if he married a mudblood.

Taking a sip of his juice, he looked between his mother and father. Mother was busy with her crossword and Father was buried in his paper as he periodically sipped at his tea. Usually, Farley liked these kinds of mornings. They were peaceful and he'd keep quiet just to carry on the serene atmosphere.

But today his curiosity was just too much.

"Mother, Father? If I married a mudblood what would you do?" he asked.

They looked up from their activities with identical glares.

"Don't you be getting ideas, young man!" his mother hissed.

Father's face took on a red hue. He then told him, "I'll take you over my knee if I hear you suggest such a disgusting thing again, Farley Goyle!"

Shrinking back in his seat, Farley looked to his porridge and realized he had his answer. He should never again consider such a blasphemous idea if he knew what was was good for him.

Or at least he shouldn't in his parents' presences.

* * *

 **This one is rather short, but I think it's rather straight to the point. Farley's parents still very much believe in the Pureblood ideals even after the war.**

 **Thank you for reading and please review!**


	12. Nighttime Discovery 11-28-15

_**Nighttime Discovery**_

* * *

"Farley."

Gasping at the sensation of moist breath on the shell of his ear and the vibration of his name in his ear's canal, Farley woke. Searching the darkness around him with darting eyes, he nearly screeched when he realized their was a face just centimeters from his own. However, his waker seemed to have anticipated this and covered his mouth accordingly.

Leaning in close, they hissed, "Don't scream!"

And then all of Farley's fear disappeared. It was just _Ulyssa_. Pulling her hand off his mouth, Farley sat up in his bed and asked, "What are you doing?"

Pulling at his arm, Ulyssa hissed, "C'mon! I can't sleep and want to _explore_."

Kicking off his blankets, Farley asked, "Why explore?"

Ulyssa seemed to shrug as she gave his arm yet another tug.

Sighing, Farley let his friend pull him from his bed and out of his room. Once in the dim lights of his home's hall, Farley said to Ulyssa, "This is a bad idea, you know."

The girl laughed. "So?" she countered. "When has that stopped someone - or me - from doing it? Remember that time you told me not to do the double-loop on my broom?"

"You did it and broke both your arms," Farley finished.

Ulyssa nodded triumphantly. "See!"

Farley didn't. Not really, anyway. He knew, though, saying things would only extend this rather befuddling and useless conversation. "What are we going to do?" he asked.

She opened her mouth, but said nothing. Lips puckering, she eventually just shook her head and pointed empathetically down the hall. Farley nodded and together, they started for whatever mischief Ulyssa would find for them.

Not much later, Ulyssa veered off to the left to start tugging on the knob of the locked door that Farley knew lead to the attic. Feeling his palms begin to sweat, he whispered, "Stop! Mother will _never_ let you spend the night again if we go up there!"

Ulyssa flashed him a not quite nice smile. "That's fine by me," she declared. "We'll just have to have our sleepovers at Aunt Rachel and Uncle Ephram's. My bed _there_ doesn't smell like old people!"

Face heating up, Farley gave her a shove that he'd never dare to in the light of day. "Belt up!" he growled. "The bed does _not_ smell like old people! Mother has the House Elf clean it well after every one of Grandmother and Grandfather's visits!"

Snickering as she gave him a shove back, Ulyssa said, "Not well enough! Your mother better get herself a new House Elf!"

"I _like_ Babs, she cooks the best waffles!" Farley argued.

Rolling her eyes, Ulyssa just flipped her messy curls behind her shoulder and said, "Come on, Farley. Stop being a dumb baby now. I'll be going to Hogwarts next year! This could be one of our last adventures!"

This, unlike anything else Ulyssa had put forth tonight, garnered Farley's immediate cooperation. "Okay," he relented.

Giving him a smile for his agreement, Ulyssa put her hand back on the knob and began to turn it experimentally. "Do you think it can be unlocked with an _Alohomora_?"

Farley gnawed on the inside of his lip and shrugged. "Maybe," he replied.

"Hm, if you think it's that simple…" Ulyssa mumbled, narrowing her eyes as she put both hands on the dulled copper.

"Ulyssa?" Farley whispered a minute later.

In response, the girl only tensed as she snapped, "Quiet!"

Shrinking back, the boy became so.

A moment later, the door opened with a loud pop.

Jumping back, Ulyssa cast a frantic look down the hallway. Obviously, she expected his parents to come running from their room. Farley, though, knew this wasn't going to happen. They'd starting putting a Silencing Charm on their room at night some years ago, about the same time his mother decided he was too old to be coddled after every nightmare he had.

Farley realized this had probably been a measure of theirs to stop the coddling.

Pushing the door in with his bare toes, Farley told Ulyssa, "They aren't coming. Let's head up," he said.

Casting one last suspicious glance over her shoulder, the girl followed Farley up the winding stairs. Once they reached the attic landing, Ulyssa looked around the over-stuffed room and remarked, "You're family keeps everything, don't they?"

Farley shrugged. "I guess," he answered. Though, he wasn't sure if that was true anymore. It wasn't like he'd ever seen either of his parents come up here. The one or two times he'd asked his mother about the attic she'd always told him it was dusty and boring and there was no reason to go up there. Ever.

As he stared out at the many, shadowed long and tall shapes around him, Farley had to agree with her assessment. This did seem like a dusty and boring place to be in.

"Where should we start?" Ulyssa asked.

Farley shook his head. "Can't we go back downstairs? I'm cold," he whined.

She stamped her foot and with a displeased huff, Ulyssa said, "No! We just got up here!"

Puffing out his cheeks in annoyance, Farley stalked past his friend and said, "Fine!" Going up to a rather beat-up trunk a few feet ahead of Ulyssa, Farley got down on his knees and pushed the lid open. "Let's look in this one!" he said to the girl.

"A trunk!" she shouted, sounding rather disappointed in Farley's choice. "It's probably just clothes or school stuff!" she complained.

Rifling through what was, in fact, mostly school supplies, he reminded her, "You are the one who asked _me_ where we should start."

Joining him in searching a moment later, Ulyssa grumbled, "I was right, though. This _is_ just school stuff."

With nothing to say to that, Farley just continued to shuffle aside books and things aside. However, when he pulled out a robe, something white and flat tumbled out of the folds.

"What's that?" Ulyssa murmured as she reached for it.

Leaning in close to get a better look at it as Ulyssa turned it over, Farley exclaimed, "It's a mask!"

Fingers tracing the delicate designs etched into the shiny material, the girl said, "It looks like a _Death Eater_ mask."

Farley frowned. "Like the ones our grandparents wore?" he asked.

"Like the ones our grandparents _and_ your father and my mother wore," she corrected.

Taking it from his friend, Farley said, "My father never had a mask. He said so."

"He could have lied," Ulyssa replied.

Tracing the shape of the mask thoughtfully, Farley placed it back in the trunk and started to bury it again.

Trying to stop him, Ulyssa complained, "What are you doing! We could use it when we play Auror and rogue Death Eater!"

Farley pushed her hand away and told his friend, "We will not play with it. If you try and take it I'll tell my mother and father we went up to the attic."

"You wouldn't!"

"I will."

Giving an angry snarl, Ulyssa stood up and declared, "I don't want to explore with you anymore!"

"That's fine. I'm tired anyway," Farley said as he closed the lid of the trunk.

Ulyssa glowered at him. "I'm never spending the night here again," she spat.

"Okay," he replied easily as he headed for the stairs. "See you in the morning."

She made some more upset noises before stomping after him.

A few moments later, they were back downstairs.

Looking at Ulyssa, Farley warned, "I'll be checking on it in the morning."

She stuck out her tongue. "You're so _lame_."

"You're so bad," he countered. "See you later," he finished as he returned to his room. Once in it, he locked the door.

Standing in the middle of his room then, Farley wondered just how his mother had gotten out of going to Azkaban with a mask like that in her possession.

* * *

 **I thought another chapter about Ulyssa and Farley might be a nice addition to _Growing Up Goyle_. What do you think about the bit at the end about the Death Eater Mask?**

 **Also , remember chapter are being dated in the index with the point at which they were added to _Growing up Goyle._ I hope this will help with any confusion you guys might feel due to how I arrange chapters upon uploading them to keep the timeline in order.**

 **Thank you for reading and please review :)**


	13. Impossible Dream

_**Impossible Dream**_

* * *

"-and _these_ are the quills Uncle Ephram bought for me. They're all self-inking quail feathers. Isn't that neat, Farley?" Ulyssa asked excitedly.

Staring into her large, hopeful eyes, the boy nodded. "They really are," he agreed.

Shoulders drooping suddenly, Ulyssa put the case on the coffee table and took a seat beside her friend on the sofa. "Are you just as sad as me that we won't see each other for the next four months?" she asked.

Farley blinked. Was Ulyssa really just as unhappy as him about their upcoming separation? Surely getting to go to Hogwarts should eclipse that for her? Unsure and uncomfortable, Farley only nodded.

Ulyssa gave him a small smile. "You're my best friend. While I'm sure I can make other mates at Hogwarts, I'd rather have you beside me. Like always," she confided in him.

Farley, meeting her gaze, gave a return smile. "You're my best friend too, Ulyssa. I don't know how I'm going to survive. It's going to be so _boring_ without you. None of Mother or Father's mates that we visit often have children close to our age. In fact, only the other friend my parents have that _has_ a child is Mister Zabini. But Dominique is only two, so she's not much fun. She screams more than anything else."

This drew a laugh from Ulyssa as she tucked her dark curls behind her ears. "I'll write," she promised. "Everyday, even. I figure, given how all the adults talk about it, Hogwarts must be a rather exciting place. I'm sure I'll have more than enough to tell you."

"I bet," Farley agreed. "Hey, um, Ulyssa do you know what house you want to be in?" he asked, changing the subject rather awkwardly.

Ulyssa furrowed her brows and tilted her chin in such a way that Farley knew she thought he was being strange. "I _want_ to be in?" she inquired with great emphasis on 'want'. "Farley, don't be dumb. You don't get to _pick_. The hat puts you where you belong!" she huffed with a little laugh at the end. "Sometimes, Farley, I think you are as dull as a doorknob."

He flushed. "I-I didn't mean it like t-that!" he stammered. "I just thought you might have a pretty good idea where the Sorting Hat was going to put you, is all!"

Features relaxing from their annoyed set, Ulyssa smiled. "Oh," she said. "I see. I do know, actually. I'll be Slytherin. Just like Father, Uncle Ephram and Aunt Rachel. Just like you too."

"Just like me? I haven't been sorted," Farley reminded her in confusion.

She giggled. "Oh, come on, Farley. It's not hard to figure out. _All_ Goyles in the history of _forever_ have been Slytherins. Same as us Flints! It'd be like a frog suddenly sprouting wings and flying if you went anywhere else!" she exclaimed with a wave of her hand for emphasis.

Farley stared at Ulyssa's smug face for a long moment before dropping his gaze to his knees. Fingers bunching in his pants, he asked in a whisper, "You think so? You don't think either of us could end up anywhere else? I mean, your mother _was_ a Ravenclaw..." he trailed off.

Face bored, Ulyssa shrugged. "That's because all Brooks before her went there. She's really not _that_ clever, you know. She wouldn't have gotten married to my father if she was," she explained slowly, as if Farley was much more stupid than he actually was.

"Oh," he murmured in response with little else to say.

Ulyssa gave his hand a pat. "Don't worry, okay? You'll end up there. Just like me. You know, a year's really not _that_ long. Before you know it, we'll be seeing each other everyday again in Hogwarts halls!" she proclaimed cheerfully. "It'll be great, then, because we'll get to do all sorts of things we can't do here because of my aunt and uncle and your parents."

Farley did his best to smile back with the same level of excitement, but felt he was missing the mark. However, Ulyssa didn't seem to notice, because she began to talk about all the things she had planned for them to do at Hogwarts.

Bobbing his head along and making an interested noise now and again, Farley wondered mournfully if his friend was right. Was it really impossible to be someone besides just another Goyle?

The rational, downtrodden part of him said Ulyssa was right. But the hurt, furious and desperate part of Farley was shouting, yelling, screaming, _roaring_ that she was wrong. That Ulyssa _had_ to be because Farley dreamed of so much more than a Slytherin green crest and being the burly lackey of one Scorpius Malfoy.

He wanted more than anything else in the _entire_ world for people to know him as Farley first and Goyle second.

* * *

 **This is a little piece to flesh out Farley's coming hopes for Hogwarts and to show he'd been dreaming of being something beside Slytherin for a long while before his sorting.**

 **Thank you all a ton for reading and please review!**


	14. A Lesson in Hexes and What the…10-26-15

_**A Lesson in Hexes and What the Future Holds**_

* * *

Moments after walking out of the fireplace alongside his mother, Farley was surprised to find his father lounging on the sitting room sofa.

"Father?" he greeted uncertainly. Glancing to the grandfather clock that rested against the opposing wall, Farley felt further confusion when he saw it was only three in the afternoon. Most days, his Father worked until six in the evening, sometimes seven or even _eight._

Farley looked to his mother then. Her face wasn't troubled at all. Instead, she was rummaging through their bag of shrunken packages, muttering to herself. Finally, she pulled out Farley's wand box and brought it back to its original size.

"It's an eleven and a quarter inch aspen with dragon heartstring and he described the wand as being quite flexible," his mother told his father, face not quite happy, but not angry either.

Father gave a nod. "Good for duels," he remarked.

Handing Farley the wand, his mother muttered, "But also for _revolutionaries_. You should have seen the look that prat gave me when it worked for Farley!"

Father gave a snort. "They've been giving us looks for years, Millicent. Why's it matter more today than it does any other day?"

Looking away, face flushed, his mother crossed her arms.

Anxious now, Farley decided he better ask why his father was home early before his mother came up with a retort that would lead to a row. "Father, why are you home early?" he asked.

The man's gaze snapped to Farley, his dark eyes glowing with pride. "You've got your wand," he said. "And to celebrate, I'll show you a couple spells. You won't be able to actually cast them, of course, but seeing them done and learning the incantations will do you good."

Farley felt a grin spread across his face. "Wow! Really?" he gasped.

Father smiled back. "Yes, really."

Vibrating in place, Farley looked to his mother for permission. Maybe she'd want him to put away all his new school things first or for him to sit down and have a snack or something. She could get fussy like that and it was best he not forget that lest she blame his father for Farley behaving poorly.

Rolling her eyes, she made a shooing motion. "Go, Farley. I'll put your things in your room," she told him.

"Thank you, Mother!" he exclaimed before hurrying to his father who was standing now, waiting for him.

Following his father out to their yard, his wand clutched in his hand, Farley felt his heart thrum with excitement. "What spells are you going to teach me, Father?" he asked.

"We'll start with the stinging hex," his father replied. Positioning Farley a pace away, he brought out his wand quick as lighting and said, "It's rather simple, you just-"

Farley yelped, falling back. Putting his now throbbing fingers in his mouth, he glared at his father. "Why'd y'do 'at?" he demanded around his quickly swelling fingers.

His father just gave him a grim smile. "Best way to understand it is to experience it yourself," he told Farley. "My father preformed it on me and his before him on him too. I suspect it goes back to the very first Goyles, actually."

Hearing this, Farley decided that if he ever had a son (or daughter) that he wouldn't do this to them. This was one (of many) Goyle traditions that seemed far too cruel to continue. While he knew they were rather slow and learned best through physical means, actually having to experience the pain of the curse was just too much.

"Hmph," was all he said in reply as the stinging began to lessen.

Father gestured for him to come close. "Now, come here. I want you to watch how I point my wand…"

Warily, he did so. As the lesson went on, Farley really became interested and started asking question after question about duels and what kind of spells were best for defense. Father would always answer, but he'd quickly move the spells he spoke of back to offensive ones. Which frustrated Farley to no end.

Finally, he huffed, " _Father_ , I want to know how to defend myself! I'm not going to be looking for fights!"

"Oh?" his father replied. "You think so, do you? I should probably remind you that Scorpius Malfoy will be in your year. If he's anything like his father, he'll be picking fights left and right."

"Who says I'll be mates with him?" Farley returned, confused.

Father ruffled his hair. "It's just the way of things, Farley. Goyles have a long history with Malfoys and seeing as you'll be in the same year, you'll just…fall together, I suppose is the best way of putting it. When that happens, you'll need to know how to fight. Especially since there's no…no Crabbe boy to watch your back."

Farley looked to his toes. His father didn't talk much about the Crabbes, but he knew, even after all these years, he missed Vincent Crabbe. The two of them had gotten along quite well; idiocy calling to idiocy, as his mother had explained to him a few times. His unfortunate demise during the battle had hit Father quite hard.

"I see," Farley replied. But in reality, he didn't. Why, just because they were going to be roommates, did Farley have to fall together with him and become mates? His father and Mister Malfoy weren't _friends_ , as far as Farley could tell. It's not like Scorpius's father came to see his very often, or vise versa. And if they were friends, they didn't behave a bit like mother and Missus Flint did. There was no idle chatter, smiles, or sharing of drink and food. No, if Mister Malfoy came to visit, it was for an important reason and their meetings never left the parlor. They kept things terse and every time they met, it brought out what Farley liked to call the _shadows_.

Their brows would grow heavy and cause their eyes to be overlaid with darkness. Often times, during their conversations, they'd glance to the perpetually empty spot beside them - like they expected someone to be filling it. His father (and he suspected Scorpius's did too) would become particularly snappy after one of their meetings.

No, as far as he could tell, they weren't friends. Once upon a time they might have been, he knew, but these days all they had was a tired loyalty that drew them together when serious things had to be discussed. Otherwise, they had nothing to do with one another and this, Farley believed, was why he'd only seen Scorpius a handful of times over the course of his eleven years rather than frequently like he did with Ulyssa.

Tallying this in his mind with all the other reasons why he didn't want to be Slytherin, Farley reminded himself he better at least become comfortable with the idea of becoming Scorpius Malfoy's bodyguard. Chances were, despite his best efforts, he'd end up in Slytherin just like everyone else he knew. When that happened, he'd be expected to use this training or he'd be risking his father's ire and love, which was the last thing Farley wanted to do.

Abruptly, he was drawn from his thoughts when his father cleared his throat.

"Good lad," he whispered. "Now, how about we go in for some supper, hm?"

Farley nodded. "Yes, Father," he replied.

Allowing the man to guide him back inside, Farley did his best to push away his worries. It wasn't every day he got to have dinner with his father, after all. He wanted to enjoy it even if his first lesson in spells was now a sour memory.

* * *

 **With all the chapters I have with Millicent and Farley up now, I figured it was time I go and revise one of the Gregory ones I have and put it up for you guys.**

 **What do you think of the Goyle teaching methods? About Farley's thoughts on his father and Draco? His future?**

 **Also , remember chapter are being dated in the index with the point at which they were added to _Growing up Goyle._ I hope this will help with any confusion you guys might feel due to how I arrange chapters upon uploading them to keep the timeline in order.**

 **Thank you so much for reading and please review :)**


	15. Mean Girls 10-5-15

_**Mean Girls**_

* * *

Watching as Ulyssa and Opal Montague leaned in close to whisper and giggle amongst themselves for the fourth time in an hour, Farley threw down his Gobstone in frustration.

Unfortunately for him, it hit the ground so perfectly that when it squirted its foul liquid it hit Farley right in the mouth. Their hands going to their mouths in identical displays of surprise, Montague and Ulyssa only had to share a single glance before they fall over each other cackling.

Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Farley couldn't help but gag when a bit of the liquid still managed to get through his pursed lips. Farley had only had the chance once before to taste it, but he knew without doubt the liquid tasted the same as spoiled milk. "Ugh!" he exclaimed, spitting on the ground.

Montague gave a squeal, his saliva barely missing the toe of her boot.

"Watch where you spit!" she cried.

Farley bared his teeth at her. "Watch how you talk to me!" he snapped.

"Farley!" Ulyssa chided, giving him a glare as she place a hand on Montague's arm. "I'm so sorry about him. I told my aunt not to invite him and his mother today, but she just didn't listen!"

Feeling anger mingle with his earlier embarrassment and frustration, Farley threw his other Gobstone at the girls as he yelled, "Merlin, Ulyssa! You are such a bitch!"

The duo shrieked as the disgusting liquid sprayed the hems of their skirts. Her own face flushed now, Ulyssa shouted back, "And you're a real arsehole! Just go back inside, Farley! No one wants you here!"

"Fine! I will!" he snapped. Turning heel, he stomped through the open patio door and into the parlor where his mother and Missus Flint were having tea.

Seeing him approach, Ulyssa's aunt flashed him a smile as she lifted the plate of biscuits for him to see. His favorite gingersnaps were stacked high in the middle. Reaching out with a greedy hand, he grabbed several and immediately stuffed one in his mouth.

"Farley!" his mother scolded. "Where are your manners?"

Swallowing, he flushed as he said to Missus Flint, "Thank you for the biscuits."

"You're welcome!" she replied happily.

Farley couldn't help but give her a half-smile in return. Ulyssa's aunt had that affect on people, Farley knew. Her cheerful disposition was infectious (it was a real wonder, Farley thought, sometimes, that his mother and her were cousins).

Taking a seat beside his mother, he took slight comfort in how she reached over to sweep his bangs out of his eyes. "Farley, why aren't you outside playing with the girls still?" she asked, sounding almost maternal.

"They were being dunderheads," he grumbled, "chitchatting when they should have been tossing their stones and such."

Missus Flint laughed as his mother gave a disapproving cluck of her tongue.

"That's no way to talk about your friends..." his mother murmured as Missus Flint said:

"Don't worry, Farley. In another year or two they'll be fighting for your attention!"

Mother's eyes lit up. "They will, won't they?" she agreed with appraisal. "Then you'll be wishing they were ignoring you like they are now."

Farley wasn't really sure what the women were trying to get at, but whatever it was, it certainly wasn't a comfort to him. Farley was hurt. Ulyssa was supposed to be his best mate, but instead of telling him all about her time at Hogwarts and discussing with him what they were to do together next year, and what he should expect, she was gabbing with stupid Montague about somebody named Camden Warrington and how _great_ he looked on a broom for the Slytherin Quidditch team. The same Quidditch team the two planned to try out for next year.

Farley knew without doubt Ulyssa would make it, she was pretty wicked on a broom, but Farley didn't know anything about Montague. At this point, Farley was hoping she fell off her broom within the first ten minutes of tryouts. Maybe she'd break something important - like her neck - and then Ulyssa would be just _his_ mate again.

Looking to the two women, Farley wanted to tell them this, but knew better. His mother would have an absolute conniption if he voiced his hope that Montague would break her neck. Missus Flint would give him that sad look too, he bet. The one she often wore when Ulyssa talked about the cousins she occasionally saw on her mother's side of the family.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Is it fine if I just stay here for now?"

Reaching for the teapot as Missus Flint conjured up a teacup, his mother said, "Of course, Farley. How would you like to hear a story from our school days about your father or Mister Flint, hm?"

Perking up a little, Farley asked, "Could it be a Quidditch one? Those are always exciting."

Sharing a roll of her eyes with Missus Flint, his mother replied, "Of course, Farley."

Taking a sip of his tea, Farley hunkered in for what was surely to be a action-packed tale.

* * *

 **It's been a while since I last added a chapter, huh? I hope you liked this one! I sure thought it was fun to write.**

 **Do any of you relate to Farley in this situation? I feel like this must be a fairly common scenario he's going through.**

 **Also , remember chapter are being dated in the index with the point at which they were added to _Growing up Goyle._ I hope this will help with any confusion you guys might have been feeling due to how I arrange chapters upon uploading them to keep the timeline in order.**

 **Thanks and please review!**


	16. Farley the Badger

_**Farley the Badger**_

* * *

"Goyle, Farley!"

Elbowing his way through the throng of waiting first years, Farley did his best to hold his chin high as he approached the Deputy Headmaster and the Sorting Hat. Even though Farley was willing to bet he had more reason to be nervous than most, he was not going to show it.

It just wouldn't do for a well-raised pureblood boy like himself to appear so.

His eyes kind, the Deputy Headmaster - Bertram Aubrey - gave a nearly imperceptible gesture for him to take a seat on the waiting stool. Casting a look out of the corner of his eye to the Slytherin table, Farley felt his resolve only strengthen. The students there all had their bodies leaned forward in anticipation, ready to swallow him into their shadowy folds. He didn't want that. He didn't want to be called evil and be told he was just as bad as his father.

Never again.

Clenching his hands into fists, Farley turned around and sat down on the stool with all his weight. He didn't know how long it would take to make the Sorting Hat place him where he wanted, after all.

"Good luck," Bertram whispered as he let the hat's weathered fabric slip over his head.

" _Ah, a Goyle,_ " the Sorting Hat murmured.

It was a plain statement, Farley realized with some awe and a great deal of excitement. There was no distaste, no joy in the hat's inflection, just a matter-of-factness.

Surely it meant he'd be impartial and listen to Farely's hopes and place him accordingly? Taking a breath, he whispered his plea to the hat, "Can I be put in anywhere but Slytherin, please?"

" _Oh, aren't you a polite boy? I suppose it was your mother who taught you that - she had said please too, if I recall correctly. Though, she asked if she could be put_ in _slytherin_ , _please, but it remains you are quite like her,"_ the Sorting Hat gabbed instead of agreeing with Farley.

Holding back both disappointment and irritation, he explained, "I don't want to be called evil. You can put me in any house you like besides Slytherin. I'll even go to Gryffindor without complaint if you think that's best."

The hat gave a low chuckle. " _You're rather insistent_ _, aren't you, young man? Though, I don't feel you've thought things through. It's not the house that will hinder you here, young man, it's your_ name. _The Goyle name has already been soiled, and a different house won't stop suspicious stares or gain the dissociation from your father that you are looking for. In Slytherin, they will rally around you, protect you, accept you and all of your history without fuss._

 _"After all, so many of them are in the same predicament as you, young man. They are children of the shamed as well..._ " he trailed off.

Farley fisted his hands in the extra fabric of his pants and fought the urge to shake his head and shout, "No! No! You have to _listen_ to me!"

The hat gave one last attempt at swaying him into Slytherin, " _The ambition you have to set yourself apart from your father would do you well in Slytherin, but I can see that it is not enough to convince you to go there. But maybe if I remind you of the friend who's expecting that - as always - she'll have you by her side?_ "

Farley didn't need a name to know who the hat was talking about. He already knew that the friend it spoke of was Ulyssa Flint, the girl he'd spent almost all his childhood visiting, playing and talking with when he went to visit her aunt with his mother. Ulyssa had been sorted to Slytherin just like her parents, and her aunt and uncle the year before, and she'd even promised to save him a seat before they'd separated on their way to the castle.

Oh, how he hated the thought of upsetting her...

" _Well, young man? Have you changed your mind_?" the hat inquired.

Farley frowned. "No," he hissed, "I still want to be placed anywhere but Slytherin."

The Sorting Hat sighed. " _If you truly wish to be elsewhere, I think you belong in -_ HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat bellowed.

Ears ringing as the Sorting Hat is pulled off his head, Farley stood up and walked over to his new house. They weren't all clapping, and some of them looked rather disgusted to have him join their ranks, but the girl he'd helped up from the ground at King's Cross, after she was knocked down by an older student, was already waving him over.

Hurrying to the offered seat, Farley ducked his head as he sat down.

"So, you're a Hufflepuff like me," she remarked.

Farley gave her a hard stare. "What's wrong with that?" he grumbled.

"Nothing at all," she replied with a bit of a quirk to her lips. "I'm just surprised. An older student though you were going to be in Slytherin for sure."

"They weren't the only one," Farley muttered as he cast a look over to the Slytherin table only to find his childhood friend frowning back at him. While he regretted the rift this was surely going to cause between the two of them, Farley only had to glance at the girl beside him to realize it might not hurt as much as he feared it would.

* * *

 **What are your thoughts on Farley's sorting? The way he had to make the hard decision to leave behind Ulyssa for a better future?**

 **Thank you all a ton for reading and please review!**


	17. Up a Creek without a Paddle 10-17-15

_**Up a Creek without a Paddle**_

* * *

Taking a seat on the bed nearest the door of his new dorm, Farley just took in the warm yellows and browns with no small amount of awe. He'd never had the pleasure of being in such a cozy looking room before. Not even Missus Flint's home had ever made him feel this comfortable. Smiling to himself, he decided that maybe he could really like it here.

Or, Farley believed he could until he realized that the rest of his dormmates were staring at him.

Smile running away from his face, he bunched his fingers in the quilt spread across his bed and asked, "Yes?"

"You're a _Goyle_ ," a mean-faced blond said.

Farley wanted to roll his eyes, but the manners his mother had taught him were far too ingrained in Farley for him to throw them off now. "Yes, that's right," he replied, not really seeing where this was going.

"Why'd the hat put you here then?" another boy inquired.

He gave a shrug.

This did not appease his dormmates in the slightest.

The blond boy from earlier took a step toward him. "You don't deserve to wear our colors," he declared. "You and your family are nothing but backwards scum!"

Frowning at the boy, Farley realized he knew this one's name. "You're Peregrine Smith, aren't you? If I recall, your father wasn't much better than mine, was he? He fled the battle when all his friends stayed to fight. At least mine knew loyalty to his side," he countered hotly.

Farley felt proud of himself, he was holding his own quite well, he thought.

"Loyal to the _Death Eaters_!" one boy roared as he elbowed past Smith to glare at Farley with his face red. "It was them and _your_ family that wiped out more than half of my own! My grandparents have pictures of cousins hanging on their walls that never got to grow up! So, don't you _dare_ look so smug! Loyalty doesn't mean anything when it's to a madman who wants to kill half our kind!"

Startled by the impassioned diatribe, Farley hunched in on himself. "That's not what I was getting at," he mumbled. "Just that-"

"What, that you're better than Smith here? Because you _aren't_ ," yet another boy chimed in, face dark.

Farley turned his head. He wasn't going to try and fight with them anymore. He might not be the smartest out there, but he saw the way one who'd unleashed the nasty little speech was balling his hands. He was looking for a fight and while Farley was certain he could take him, he was not so dumb as to believe that he could take him and the other six boys he'd be rooming with.

As the silence carried on, Smith gave a laugh. "Don't have anything to say now, do you Death Eater spawn?"

Catching the snarl in his throat, Farley swung his legs on his bed and turned his back to them. He was a wall. Whatever they said to him would just bounce off. It _would_. It _had_ to.

"Yeah, thought you'd have nothing to say for yourself," Smith finally chuckled. "C'mon, lads, let's just finish unpacking."

Slowly, Farley heard feet shuffle and then trunks opening and closing as the others began to talk amongst themselves. Biting his tongue hard enough to taste blood, Farley held back the urge to cry. He wasn't a baby and this wouldn't the first time he'd been snubbed. Hell, Ulyssa had done it to him nearly half the summer whenever she had one of her new mates with her, when he went to visit Missus Flint with his mother.

But, if Farley was so used to it, why did it smart so much?

* * *

 **And this was how Farley's first night at Hogwarts went. Thoughts on it? How about your thoughts on Peregrine Smith?**

 **Also , remember chapter are being dated in the index with the point at which they were added to Growing up Goyle. I hope this will help with any confusion you guys might feel due to how I arrange chapters upon uploading them to keep the timeline in order.**

 **Thank you for reading and please review :)**


	18. One Terrible Day

**One Terrible Day**

* * *

Sniffling, Farley did his best not to let his tears fall as he headed for the infirmary. He still didn't understand why Ulyssa kept chasing him away with hexes whenever he tried to approach her. This time, she hadn't even been with other Slytherins! For the last couple days, he'd been waiting for the moment she wouldn't be with other Slytherins, even, since he thought maybe Ulyssa was just embarrassed to talk to a Hufflepuff in their company. When he saw her today, he'd believed fate had been on his side and that he was finally going to get to chat with her for the first time in almost two weeks.

But he'd hardly finished saying her name before she'd hexed him with boils.

Dabbing carefully at his eyes as to avoid irritating one of his boils, he sighed. This would be the fourth time this week he went to the Infirmary. Madam Smith was going to be quite upset, he was sure.

Especially since he was going to refuse to say who had hexed him (again).

"Wow, this is like the second time this week you've gotten hexed! Whose wrong side are you on _now_?" a falsetto voice inquired.

Lifting his gaze from the ground, Farley cast a furtive look around only to find one of his fellow first years on the other side of the corridor staring at him.

Scowling, he snapped, "Why don't you mind your own business!"

The other first year, a now familiar round-faced blonde, who Farley believed was named Alex (or something like it), furrowed her brows. "If that's your attitude when asked a question, I'm not surprised you keep getting hexed by people," she proclaimed snootily.

"I-" he choked. What could he say? How did you even brush off such a callous remark without giving your whole life story? How could he even _hint_ to what he'd been through these two weeks without looking like he was begging for pity? Farley didn't know. So, instead, Farley took a defensive stance and decided it would be best to chase her off.

"Belt up, you pig-faced busy-body!" he roared.

Eyes fluttering wide with shock, the girl only took a moment longer to bare her teeth and brandish her wand. "I'd hurry along, if I were you, Goyle. I doubt you want to add beaver teeth to your maladies."

Scoffing, he sneered despite the pain it caused his face. "I'd like to see you try!" he challenged.

She began to mutter the hex and Farley, not wanting to be hit with it, ducked down and pulled out his own wand. Not wasting a moment, he shouted the incantation for the stinging jinx and watched with some satisfaction as the girl stumbled back, cradling her hurt hand.

"I'm telling a professor!" the girl shouted, face red with fury.

Farley laughed. "You started it! And look at my _face_ , they'll think you did this."

"But I didn't!" the girl argued.

"Yeah, so?" he sneered.

Clenching her hands into fists and squaring her shoulders, the girl turned away and said, "Just go! I don't want to stare at your ugly face anymore!"

Relaxing some, Farley nodded. "I will - and gladly!" he declared as he turned and continued on his way to the infirmary.

Farley was sure the girl would tell all her mates and then some about what he'd done (as girls were terrible gossips), but he couldn't really find it in him to care at the moment. He was finally beginning to see that Ulyssa was no longer his best friend and that the chances of them ever having an amicable conversation again in Hogwarts halls were slim.

Making an enemy out of a fellow Hufflepuff just seemed like the perfect way to round off a terrible day.

* * *

 **A little story to show what Farley's early days at Hogwarts were like.**

 **Thank you so much for reading and please review!**


	19. The First Christmas

_**The First Christmas**_

* * *

Walking off the Hogwarts Express, Farley Goyle nervously looked out at the throngs of people. Surely his parents were somewhere out there waiting for him? Trunk scraping the ground behind him, the boy began to search for them. After five minutes and no luck, he began to feel his stomach crumple inwards with fear.

He'd _told_ them he was going to come home for holidays in a letter almost a month ago! His mother hadn't said anything about it in her return letter a week later, but he'd just assumed there wasn't anything else to say about it. He was coming home for Christmas and that meant they'd have to pick him up from the train station like their parents had done for them growing up.

As children began to meet up with their families and leave, Farley began to fear the worst.

' _Mother and Father aren't coming!_ ' his mind screamed at him as his worry turned into full-blown panic.

Now that almost all families were gone, Farley gave up on any pretense of looking for his mother and father. Instead, he plonked himself down on his trunk and buried his face in his hands. Sitting there, he began to consider what their absence meant.

' _Are they punishing me for being sorted into Hufflepuff?_ ' he wondered.

Suddenly, Farley was torn from his thoughts when he felt a hesitant finger tap on his shoulder. Lifting his head up, he was made to meet a pair of uncertain brown eyes hooded by scrunched, unkempt sandy-blonde brows.

Straightening back out, the man asked, "Do you need help lad?"

"I-"

A familiar, round-faced girl popped out from behind the man. "I told my dad who you are, Goyle. He says he knows where your mother's family's shop is. We can take you there, if you want," she offered curtly.

Looking between the concerned father and his rather unenthusiastic yearmate, Farley began to say no. He didn't want to admit that he needed help nor did he want to make Abbott upset with him for keeping her from going home to her family. However, he realized he was being daft very quickly.

Glancing around, he found that besides him and the Abbotts, there was one - maybe two - other families still milling around. If he didn't accept their help, he might not get any at all. If Farley didn't take them up on their offer, he'd have to go find an Auror and tell them what happened, and wouldn't _that_ be embarrassing?

Farley sure thought so. Also, even though he couldn't be sure, he believed this might count as some sort of minor felony; like child abandonment or something. His parents wouldn't only be cross with him for being a Hufflepuff after that.

So, swallowing his fears and pride, he started, "Ye-"

"Farley!"

Relief relaxing him instantly, Farley scrambled up and turned around. "There you are Mother!" he exclaimed.

Eying the Abbotts with a critical eye, she commanded to Farley, "Come here."

Grabbing the handle of his trunk, he gave the two a slight nod of his head in thanks as he hurried over. "You're late, Mo-"

"-Let us go, your father is waiting for us back home!" she cut in brusquely.

Grabbing onto his shoulder, she guided him roughly out of King's Cross. Once on the street, she grumbled, "What did you think you were doing in there? Were you trying to air our family's dirty laundry in front of those pricks?"

Confused, Farley looked up at his mother and studied her strong features for a moment. "What do you mean?" he finally asked when he could not figure out what she meant.

Sighing loudly, she rolled her eyes and muttered, "You're just as slow as your father! What I mean is that you let them know I was _late,_ Farley!"

"Anyone could see that, though," Farley replied only further perplexed by what his mother was saying.

Turning her head, his mother glared steadily at him for a good minute. "If you'd held yourself like a boy of proper breeding should, no one would have suspected a thing!"

Ears burning, Farley ducked his head and muttered, "I didn't know what was happening...I thought you were maybe punishing me for being in Hufflepuff..."

The grip Farley's mother had on him gentled a fraction. "We wouldn't punish you for something like that," she said softly. "However, your father _is_ very disappointed in you. I was late because he refused to come meet you at the station with me. We expected you to do the Goyle name proud and be Slytherin like all the rest, Farley. When you didn't, well, your father had to be talked down from stripping your inheritance from you. Twice."

"Oh," Farley whispered. He didn't know what else to say. His dad was so angry he wanted to take Farley's _inheritance_ from him. What would that mean for his Christmas holidays? Would his dad refuse to talk to him? Would he leave the room if Farley came into it? Would he deny him both his Christmas and Birthday gifts?

Abruptly, Farley was pulled from his brooding when he felt his mother's hand card through his fringe. "We'll have to cut your hair when we get back home," she muttered quietly.

Farley offered her a small smile.

This was her way of comforting him, he knew. She wasn't touchy and she actually seemed to fear being soft; so the fact she gave a reason for ruffling his hair was more than enough to let him know there was more to her touch than just him needing a haircut.

It was at that moment that Farley knew, even if his father never came around, his mother would never abandon him for his sorting.

* * *

 **So, if any of you are familiar with my other work, _Trouble Through the Ages_ , you'll recognize Farley Goyle. It was pointed out to me that Farley's actually a pretty interesting guy and now that I've had some time to think about it, I agree. Farley is a really fascinating character and I really like all that I could do with him.**

 **And to sum things up, I think this will be a fic in a line of several about Farley.**

 **Special thank you Lokilette for letting me know you liked him too and would like to see more of him!**

 **Thank you guys for reading and please review!**


	20. Hogwarts Again, Hogwarts Again 9-18-15

_**Hogwarts Again, Hogwarts Again**_

* * *

Slurping sluggishly at the porridge he'd decided on for his first breakfast back at Hogwarts, Farley hardly paid the activity around him any mind. His fellow Hufflepuffs might be bright-eyed and refreshed from their Holidays, but he was still not a morning person. Being awake at eight would always be too early for him - no matter how restful his Christmas Hols might have been.

"So, Goyle, how was your Christmas?" a far too familiar voice questioned as a girlish figure fell into place beside him. Turning his head, Farley leveled Alexis Abbott with a suspicious frown. "Fine," he answered.

A smile toying with the corners of her lips, she asked, "Did you get any nice gifts? My Uncle bought me a nice book on medical plants."

Farley cast a glance to the Staff Table. "You mean Professor Longbottom?" he inquired.

"Yes, Professor Longbottom," she answered.

Unable to help himself, Farley asked Abbott, "Is it weird being taught Herbology by him? Being his niece and all, I mean."

Reaching for the plate of buttered toast just out of her arm's reach, Alexis gave a small nod. "It is a little," she said, "but he's always been a little Professor-y, so, it wasn't too hard to adjust to it."

"Ah," Farley replied simply.

Eyes attentive as she met his gaze, the girl asked, "Did you get any nice gifts?"

"Mmm, not really, I guess. My mother took me to Germany to visit a cousin of hers for Christmas and my Birthday. We went to a number of nice restaurants while we were there and she bought me a tie with the German flag's colors to wear for special occasions and things. She's quite practical when it comes to gifts, you see. So, what I did get wasn't particularly _wanted_ by me, you know?" he told Abbott.

Giving him a sympathetic smile, she asked, "Where was your Father? Didn't he buy you anything you wanted for Christmas or your birthday?"

Farley looked away. "He...had business to do. He couldn't come to Germany with us. But that happens some years, so it's okay," he assured Abbott when a frown began to replace her smile.

"I...Is that truth, Farley? It's okay if it's not, I understand that more traditional families aren't always happy with their children depending on where they end up house-wise."

"It is the truth," Farley lied with a scowl. "What happened at King's Cross wasn't something bad, okay? My mother had gotten held up and just couldn't be there on time. That's why she was snippy, there's nothing else to it!" he growled.

The girl blinked. Then, voice still soft and kind, she said, "I believe you, Farley. My dad was just worried for you, and thanks to some of the stories I've heard from Uncle Neville as well as a couple weeks to think about it, I..." she trailed off, giving an embarrassed little shrug. "You probably think I'm being a nutter, don't you?"

Farley didn't think that, actually. He was actually rather touched she cared at all. He'd yet to make a friend at Hogwarts and this was the first time anyone had reached out to him and shown any real interest in his life. "No, I don't," he replied empathetically. "Thank you for caring - even if it's not necessary."

The girl's cheeks flushed and then, cocking her head in a curious tilt, she remarked, "You really aren't a bad guy, are you?"

"I - no?" he muttered uncomfortably as he looked away to give his porridge a stir.

She laughed. "Hey, Farley, how'd you like to be my partner in Herbology this semester?" she asked. Then, leaning in, she whispered in a loud hush, "Maisie talks a little too much for taste."

"I can hear you," said girl grunted from a little ways down the table.

Smiling her way, Alexis gave the other girl a smirk. "That's okay, I was going to have to break it to you eventually."

"Actually, I'm glad you were the one to break it off. Your handwriting is atrocious. If I were you, Goyle, I'd make sure you're the one taking the notes or you'll fail your next Herbology exam," she shot back, half-jokingly, half-seriously.

Giving her a tentative nod, he said, "I'll keep that in mind."

"So, that's a yes then?" Alexis inquired eagerly.

Farley considered the girl. She was the Professor's niece, she probably knew a trick or two that would help him get a good grade to show his parents. Also, it'd be nice to have a friend again. He'd forgotten how pleasant it could be to have a conversation with someone beside his mother or one of the professors.

Giving a wide grin that surely made his cheeks dimple as they were wont to do, he answered, "Yeah, I'll be your partner."

"Wicked!" Alexis exclaimed with a happy clap of her hands.

Farley couldn't help but be infected with her joy. "I'd say so," he hummed as he brought the pitch of pumpkin juice over for Alexis once he saw her eyeing it. "With you as a partner, I'll probably get a half-way decent grade for once in that class."

Accepting the pitcher with a smile, she told Farley, "Half-way decent? Try great, Farley! If you don't ace Herbology with me as your partner, I'll eat my sock!"

He chuckled. Taking a bite of his porridge, Farley couldn't help but think that maybe, things were finally looking up.

* * *

 **And this is how Alexis and Farley's friendship came to cement itself!**

 **How do you feel about this chapter? Do you like it? Does it make sense given what's happened the last couple chapters between them?**

 **Thank you for reading, I appreciate it and hope you'll review :)**


	21. Legacy 11-30-15

_**Legacy**_

* * *

"Bloody doxies!" Farley's mother cursed as she cast a knockback jinx upon the ones who dared to try and attack her.

Anxiously, from his spot behind the shop counter, he asked, "Should I run to Mulpepper's for some Doxycide?"

Whirling around so quickly some of her hair came loose from the bun she wore, Mother hissed, " _No_. Don't be daft, Farley. This isn't Hogsmeade or even Diagon Alley! It's Knockturn Alley! If I were to send you out - even just a few shops down - I'd probably never see you again."

He shrank back in the high-backed chair his mother had instructed him to sit in over an hour ago. "Why am I here, then?" he demanded petulantly. "You said you wanted me to help you clean up the shop, but I haven't done _anything_!"

Hands balling up in annoyance, his mother opened her mouth to begin what was surely to be a furious tirade, when a doxy zoomed over and bit her on the chin. Swatting the creature away with a scream, she spun back around and vanished the curtains.

Hands over his mouth to hide his shock and suppress his laughter, Farley whispered, "Mother…"

"Oh, I give up!" she yelled as she threw down her wand. "At this rate we won't open the shop again until you're _thirty_!"

Watching in silence as his mother stalked toward the shop's door and kicked over their bucket of cleaning supplies, Farley found himself afraid. What did he do? What did he say? Farley wasn't even sure he should move at this point. His mother's wand might be on the dusty floor, but Farley was not so senseless as to believe that'd stop her from hexing him if he did something she didn't like.

Finally getting up, Farley approached his trembling mother at a cautious pace. Once he was beside her, he took extra care not to look at her face as he reached down for her wand. Picking it up, he offered it to her.

"Thank you," she said, taking it.

Bobbing his head in response, Farley stared out at the occupants of Knockturn Alley through Trankleshank's grime-covered front window. There were a couple of girls lurking around the mouth of an alleyway. One appeared to be no older than Farley, but even from across the street, and through a dirty windowpane, he could tell what she was living a far different life.

The way the girl kept smiling at men who passed her by was more than enough to indicate what existence God had cursed her with.

Looking away from the bleak sight, Farley let his eyes follow a man who walked hand in hand with a girl of about nine. They were laughing, obviously having a good time together. Again, the scene caused Farley to feel poorly. He and his father used to walk around like that.

Sighing, he finally turned his gaze over to his mother and asked, "Are you okay now?"

Her stare was sharp when it found his. "I've been _okay_ this whole time, Farley Goyle," she growled.

"Hm," Farley replied, hoping the wordless sound would show his mother that he was fine with letting it go - even if he didn't believe her.

Raking a hand through her disheveled locks, she told Farley, "After the war, with your grandparents dead, I tried to sell this place."

"Really?"

"No one would buy it," his mother continued with a low chuckle. "Everyone knew it'd belonged to them, to me, their would-be Death Eater daughter."

Farley felt his stomach begin to slosh, just like it always did when he was reminded of his parents unsavory past. "Mother-" he began, but, loudly, she cut him off.

"I was selling it for a quarter of its value then and, still, no one would even come _look_ at it. That's when your father came. It'd been almost two years since I last saw him and there he was, looking around my family's shop. I asked him what he wanted, since people were still watching me, and all Death Eater children, for that matter, closely.

"As idiotic as always, he told me he was looking to buy my shop. I knew that wasn't true, Farley. He'd just gotten out of Azkaban a few months ago and running a business was the last thing he had the mind for. Even so, I didn't turn him away. I played along for a bit and then we got to talking.

"First it was about me. Then him. After that, Draco, who'd become something of a shut-in and that lead to his would-be Princess, Pansy, who was living and working in the muggle world while raising Draco's illegitimate daughter. Next it was about Theodore, who'd reconnected with his maternal grandparents. After him, we spoke about Daphne, Tracey, Blaise and even Vincent…"

"Finally, he told me I could keep my shop if I'd marry him. Your father told me he'd take care of me."

Farley, awed by the story his mother was telling him, asked, "Did you say yes right then?"

His mother's lips quirked in a smirk. "No," she answered. "It took a few more months. By then I was desperate enough for money to agree. No one had bought the shop, nor would anyone hire me. The last thing I wanted to do was become a common whore and I believed - still do, even - that working a muggle job would have been beneath me."

"Did you love Father at all by then?" Farley asked, curious.

His mother frowned. "I felt…appreciative. Friendly toward your father. For a time, I even admired his obstinance. I can't say I loved him. But my parents were never in love, either. They were excellent, excellent partners. They understood each other and knew how to work together, but as my own father explained to me once, they were more like coworkers than lovers."

Farley asked, worried, "Has anyone in our family ever married for love?"

Rolling her eyes, his mother replied, "Have you paid any attention to Missis Rachel and Mister Ephram? They're more in love than anyone I've ever met! It's rather disgusting."

This made him laugh, both in relief and at his mother's distaste. "That's right," Farley said with a grin. Pursing his lips next, Farley, changing subject, questioned, "Why are we cleaning up the shop now, Mother? You didn't want it after the war, but you do now?"

She shook her head. "Not especially," she answered. "But I'm going to open it for your future, Farley. Times are changing and with you being a Hufflepuff, we could probably earn ourselves a rather decent customer base. While the Goyles were not left penniless like myself, their fortune won't last either. Investing in this shop could do you and your descendants well."

Farley blinked. "Oh," he replied. While he felt pleased knowing this shop was being rebuilt for him, Farley also was upset at the realization that once again, his parents were trying to mold him to their wants. Hadn't they learned Farley wouldn't do that once he was sorted to Hufflepuff?

Evidently not.

Reaching over, his mother suggested to Farley, "Why don't you go get the rag and bucket we brought along today, hm? You can clean the windows while I start on the back room."

Nodding his agreement, Farley did so. As he started on cleaning the windows, he began to ponder just what his future might hold. Would he continue to disappoint his family by going against their wishes? Or would Farley conform to his mother's hopes and retain her affection?

Farley couldn't say. He wasn't very smart and he had no vision. He hardly knew what he wanted to do tomorrow, let alone five years from now.

Scrubbing thoughtfully at a stubborn stain, he supposed time would give him his answer.

(Just as it always did).

* * *

 **Another little scene between Farley and Millicent! How do you feel about it? What it reveals about Millicent's relationship with Gregory?**

 **Also , remember chapter are being dated in the index with the point at which they were added to _Growing up Goyle._ I hope this will help with any confusion you guys might feel due to how I arrange chapters upon uploading them to keep the timeline in order.**

 **Thank you all so much for reading and please review :)**


	22. Hema Chopra, Expectations, and Family…

**_Hema Chopra, Expectations and Family History_**

* * *

Crunching down on a piece of buttered toast, Farley knew he was behaving like a loon, but he couldn't help himself. Sure, Hema Chopra was a Muggleborn (or Mublood as his father would say in private company), but she had to be the prettiest first year out of all of the houses.

She was already taller than most of the girls in her year, she had thick, shiny black curls that complimented her sienna skin and dark grey eyes. Her features, while not delicate, were well proportioned to her face and made her look like one of those drawings of a Saudi Arabian princess that he'd seen in an antiquated travel book of his mother's.

The best part, though, was she was a _Hufflepuff_. Like him.

An elbow dug into his side. Grimacing, he dropped what was left of his toast back onto his plate. Afterward he turned his head only to find that Alexis was frowning intently at him. "You are so obvious," she told him.

"Y-You mind your own business, Abbott," Farley stuttered, flushing despite his best intentions to just look mean.

Smirking at him, the girl just lifted her chin high as she proclaimed, "You fancy Hema, don't you?"

Casting a nervous glance toward Hema. He soaked up the way she was laughing at something Alexis's little sister had said to her. He wished he could find a way to make her laugh like that. But even more than that, Farley wished he knew how to talk to her without getting all tongue-tied _period_.

"No," he lied. "I can't, my parents would have a-" he clamped his mouth shut suddenly, realizing he was about to let Alexis know that his family still thought about things in the old way.

Alexis's features twisted into something akin to pity. "Hey, you can like who you want. It's not up to them how you live your life," she told him gently.

Dropping his gaze to the table, Farley just shook his head. "I can't disappoint them anymore," he whispered. He didn't know why he was telling a loud-mouth like Alexis of all people this, but there was something just so... _honest_ about her tone.

"I guess they didn't really plan on you being a Hufflepuff, did they?" his housemate deduced easily.

Glancing up and toward the Slytherin table, Farley spied Scorpius Malfoy having what appeared to be a heated row with Opal Montague. He knew that his father had expected him to become a Slytherin like him. Become Malfoy's associate just like he'd been with Scorpius's father. Keep his mouth shut and learn his lessons so he could someday work the job his father picked for him. But instead of becoming a Slytherin, he became a Hufflepuff. Instead of striking up a mutually beneficial relationship with Malfoy, he became close acquaintances with Alexis Abbott. Thankfully, beyond that, he was still doing just as his father wanted and maybe, in the end, he would still do his old man proud.

"No," he answered finally. "I believe that was the last thing they expected."

The girl snorted in an unattractive fashion and looked over at Hema with a calculating stare. "You know," she began conversationally, "She's got a bit of a unibrow."

Farley shrugged. His mother wasn't exactly an ideal example of feminine beauty either. Pursing her lips at his reaction, Alexis continued, "And her front teeth, they're a bit long. Kind of makes her look like a rabbit, wouldn't you say?"

"I like rabbits," Farley replied. They made for especially good stew.

Sighing loudly at this, Alexis declared, "Okay, I didn't want to say this, but I heard from Sheba that she drools in her sleep."

Fighting down his grin, Farley countered, "That's all right, I snore."

"I'm done!" the girl exclaimed. "I tried to break your little crush, but I guess that's not gonna happen anytime soon, huh?"

"No," he agreed. He was actually a little proud of his stubbornness. All his life he'd not been allowed to be obstinate because his parents had "no time for pigheaded boys," as they'd say. But here, at Hogwarts, he was learning how to be and someday, he hoped it'd be what tipped the scale to him getting what he wanted in the future.

Maybe it'd be Hema; maybe it'd be an E on his Transfiguration N.E.W.T.S or third place in the Dueling Club's end of the year competition. Whatever it would be, Farley knew he'd look back to moments like this one as his reason for why he got what he wanted. After all, stubbornness wasn't always something one was born with. Sometimes it was something you had to learn.

Drumming her fingers along the wood of Hufflepuff's table, Abbot said softly, "If your parents ever throw you out, you just let me know. My dad's a softie, as you may remember from Christmas Hols last year, he'll let you come stay with us."

Blinking in surprise at what Alexis was offering and saying, Farley asked, "How do you know that?"

Turning her head away, Alexis began, "About sixteen years back, he met a girl who'd just been told by her family she was disowned on the platform at King's Cross. As you might know, even after the war, things weren't peachy. She'd been caught by her little sister snogging a Muggleborn and her family, staunch believers in the old ways, cut her out of their family when they heard.

"My dad didn't have to help her, he had enough of his own problems. His mother had been killed four years earlier and him and my aunt were just barely getting by at the time on their inheritance and my aunt's barmaid's wage. Despite all of this, he invited this girl to come live with him and my aunt.

"That summer, the two of them got very close and by the beginning of the school year, before she sent him off for his final year, he proposed. They married the next summer and they lived happily for the next four years. Then I was born. They were extra happy after that, and when they found out she was pregnant with Sheba...My dad says the right word to describe how they felt at the time was elated. They didn't stay elated too long, though. My mum died after giving birth to Sheba. My Dad was all alone then with just his sister and us after that. Has been since then, too. But don't worry, we do just fine!"

Absorbing all that Abbott had just told him, the first thing he thought to say was, "Thank you for the offer."

Looking at him through her lashes, she asked in a small voice, "You don't feel badly about me not having a mum?"

"No," Farley answered. "I'm sure it must be really awful sometimes, but you and your sister seem happy enough. If you'd told me last year things might be different, but I know you. You're fine, you're sister's fine - just like you said - so there's nothing about you to pity."

Alexis blinked her doe-eyes at Farley. Then she grinned. "Thanks, I appreciate that," she told him.

"It's no trouble," Farley replied before he reached for a sausage off the serving dish sitting in front of him.

* * *

 **This is just yet another moment in the life of one Farley Goyle. What do you think about it? I think this is the first one where I've expounded on his relationship with Abbott. I'm hoping to bring in another friend or two in some coming moments, but Abbott is and always will be his best friend.**

 **Thank you guys for reading and please review!**


	23. You Know What They Say About Familiars…

_**You Know What They Say About Familiars and their Owners…**_

* * *

When Farley came down from his room for dinner on December twenty-ninth, he was more than a little surprised by his parents' announcement.

"Farley, since you will be turning thirteen in two days time, we think it's time you have a familiar," his mother told him.

Looking between her and his equally serious-faced father, Farley could only say, "Okay. Erm, what am I getting?"

His parents shared a look.

"That's up to you, son," his father told him.

Gawking at them, Farley didn't know what to say in response. He'd never given familiars much thought. Sure, he'd felt a little jealous when he learned Alexis had her own owl and didn't have to use the school ones, but he'd not really _wanted_ one. He'd seen what Perry Smith's owl had done to his face, after all. Farley wasn't too keen on owning an animal that could at any moment turn on him and maul him within an inch of being disfigured.

He'd also seen Albus Potter running around the castle numerous times in hunt for his missing ferret. While he'd heard time and time again how clever the wily things were, Farley wasn't particularly interested in hunting one down on a biweekly basis.

Farley also knew from the few stories his parents had shared of their own school days that his mother had owned a cat. However, if Farley picked that as his familiar, he knew it'd make his father grumble. Cats were for _girls,_ he'd say.

Some of the other Weasleys had those pygmypuffs, but they were so tiny that Farley feared he's squish it by accident if he sat down too quickly without looking.

Then there was the possibility of having a toad or rat...but he didn't really care for either of those either. Toads were slimy and rats bit you.

Eyeing his parents warily, he asked with some hesitation, "Couldn't I just get a new wand holster?"

"Don't you want a familiar?" his mother asked, a fretfulness coming to her usually bland tone. "I thought all boys your age wanted one if they didn't have one already…"

Farley shifted uncomfortably. His mother always seemed to be worrying about Farley's lack of desire and ambition these days. Farley thought he desired things plenty, (for people to forget who his father was, to have Hema Chopra for a girlfriend and to be the best duelist in Dueling Club) but ambition? What did he need that for? Even if he'd been in Slytherin, he knew his future would be the same as it was now.

He didn't have say in what was going to happen to him, so why bother?

Sighing, Farley relented. "Yes, I do, I just don't know what I'd want..."

"We can go Menagerie's, Farley, don't fear," his mother told him.

Doing his best to smile, he nodded. "Thank you, Mother," he said.

"It's no trouble, isn't that right, Gregory?"

His father blinked. Looking slowly between his mother and Farley, he nodded when his mother's lips began to twitch as they often did when she was annoyed. "Yes, that's right," he echoed.

"You weren't paying any attention to your son _or_ the conversation, were you, Gregory Goyle?" his mother hissed.

Frowning, Father muttered, "Wasn't much of a conversation at all, I bet."

Nostrils flaring, Mother opened her mouth wide to give Father what-for as Farley sighed. Reaching for the bowl of carrots, he did his best to tune out their bickering as he filled his plate with a generous helping.

-v-v-v-v-v-

Walking the noisy isles of Magical Menagerie's, Farley feared nothing would ever catch his eye. The creatures that were proudly on display just weren't what he was looking to own. The fact his mother was studying the owls with an intense glare told Farley if he didn't pick something soon, she would be doing it for him.

Debating once again if a toad would be better than owning a possibly barmy owl, Farley saw something move out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he smiled at what he saw.

Now _that_ , Farley could get behind.

-v-v-v-v-v-

Blonde brows furrowed, Alexis pulled away from the the tabletop and shook her head. "I just don't get why you'd pick _this_ over every other creature there."

"It's simple," Farley replied as he fed his new familiar, Morrison, a radish. "I feed him twice a day and I never have to worry about losing Morrison because he doesn't move fast."

Raising an eyebrow, Alexis gave an amused chuff when Morrison completely missed chomping down on the radish. "He's also a little dumb, from the looks of it," she remarked.

"What do you expect?" Perry Smith proclaimed as he butted in to the conversation. Waving his fork around, he sing-songed, "You know what they say, familiars take after their owners!"

Glowering at the uppity brunette, Farley grumbled, "Belt up, Smith. We weren't talking to you anyway."

"So rude," the boy sniffed as he went back to his dinner.

After a long, drawn out look at Smith from the corner of her eye, Alexis turned back to Farley and smiled. "Even if Morrison's a little dumb, he's quite cute. Or, he is for a tortoise, anyway."

Farley grinned back. "Thanks, Alexis," he said.

As long as Alexis approved, whatever Smith had to say about Morrison didn't matter.

* * *

 **What do you think about Farley's familiar? Does it fit him? I figured he'd like something that's relatively easy to take care of, since he's not the kind of person who's looking for complications.**

 **Thank you guys a ton for reading and please review :)**


	24. Blushing Pilgrims 10-23-15

_**Blushing Pilgrims**_

* * *

He didn't bother to look up at the sound of feet crunching through the snow and dry grass. Instead, Farley continued to move his arms and legs up and out, in and down, making the best snow angel he possibly could in the winter's first snowfall.

Moments later, however, his vision of blue skies was replaced with the ruddy-cheeked countenance of one Alexis Abbott. Sighing, Farley carefully sat up and pushed himself out of his angel. Admiring it once standing, he was about to start to use the toe of his shoe to round out a corner of his left wing when-

"Tia told me and the rest of the girls that Leila Pendleton finally kissed her," she told Farley.

Farley sighed. "Yeah?" he replied. "Well, good for Tia."

Brows knitting together, his friend crossed her arms and remarked in a sulky tone, "All the girls but me have been kissed by somebody other than their parents now."

"There are only four Hufflepuff girls in our year - not counting you," Farley reminded her. "You don't think all the boys have kissed somebody, do you? I _know_ Smith hasn't snogged anybody."

A bit of a smile played on Alexis's lips then. "Well, who'd want to lock lips with that bigmouth?"

"Exactly!" Farley laughed. "It's really not a big deal, you know? It's not like _I've_ kissed anybody either, you know?"

Alexis raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Not even Ulyssa Flint when you were little?"

Farley shifted, uncomfortable with the idea of recalling his childhood with the girl who'd not so much as look at him anymore. "Well…I don't _recall_ kissing her," he mumbled.

The girl snickered.

He scowled, face turning even redder. "What's so funny?"

"It's just - oh, I'm sure you were a really adorable toddler Farley, but _her_ …"

Despite that they hadn't been friends in years, Farley couldn't let her insult Ulyssa so wantonly. "She's not ugly!" he decried.

"She's not pretty either," Alexis snorted.

Farley frowned. "She's just going through an awkward phase - she's fourteen this year, you know?" he defended.

This made the girl narrow her eyes, lips pursed out in irritation. "Sometimes, Farley, you really confuse me. You've told me she hexed you and jinxed you every chance she had the first couple months of our first year and that she won't even talk to you anymore, but you get all bent out of shape when I poke fun at her.

"You don't care when I do that to Smith - or Coote and his cronies, for that matter," she told him.

He looked down. Farley couldn't explain to Alexis that even now, someday, he hoped that Ulyssa would finally give him a chance to explain himself and that then they could go back to being the best friends they were before she went to Hogwarts.

Sighing loudly when he refused to give any response, Alexis changed topic by saying, " _Anyway_ …It seems to me everyone's having their first kiss and I'm still a virgin to just about everything - hand-holding, cuddling, snogging, being felt up, etcetera, etcetera. Now, I know we aren't _in love_ , Farley, but I think I love you - as my friend."

Farley felt a little lump in the back of his throat. "I love you too, as a friend," he replied in little more than a whisper.

Alexis smiled, looking to her hands bashfully. "I know this will probably seem silly, but, would you like to be my first kiss? It won't cause, like, fireworks or anything, but it'll be nice knowing I had it with someone I really, really care about."

He felt a both a little honored and queasy at the thought. Farley was pleased that she trusted and loved him enough to want to share something so special with him, but he also worried that it might make things weird and uncomfortable between them. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I mean, it could, you know, make things… _weird_."

Big eyes determined, Alexis proclaimed, "Only if we let it!"

Farley had to look away. "I - okay…" he relented.

"Oh! Farley!" Alexis squealed, enveloping him in a tight hug. "Thank you!"

He briefly squeezed her back. "Yeah, I get it, I'm the best. Now, how are we going to do this _thing_."

"It's a _kiss,_ Farley! Don't make it sound like it's a chore!" Alexis chided as she let go of him. Pouting then, she batted her mascara heavy lashes at him and suggested, "Why don't you bend your neck down and I'll lift mine up - but do it with your eyes closed! Okay? It's creepy to kiss with them open!"

Shaking his head in exasperation, Farley had to take a moment to get over a fit of giggles before telling Alexis, "Alright, I'm ready."

Grinning then, she shouted, "On the count of three!"

"One! Two! Three!"

And then he was kissing her. Her lips were soft and sticky from her favorite sparkly banana pudding flavored gloss, but he didn't mind. This wasn't how Farley had ever imagined his first kiss would be like, but he was actually pretty glad they were doing this now, he realized. He'd been kind of worried about never finding a girl to kiss and cuddle and stuff too.

He was Gregory Goyle's son and no self-respecting descendant of the light side would ever stoop to think of him as anything romantic. By being a Hufflepuff, he'd pretty much killed any chance he might have with someone from Slytherin, or any of those who might have him in Ravenclaw, too.

So, even though there were no fireworks, like Alexis had predicted, he was pleased.

When they pulled away, Alexis, not meeting his gaze asked, "Well?"

"It was nice," he told her.

She pouted. " _Nice_?" she grumbled.

Farley gave a helpless shrug. "It _was_ ," he insisted. "There wasn't any spark or anything, but it felt good. I _liked_ it."

Giggling into her hand, Alexis stumbled into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Oh, Farley," she said, "you're so easy to tease."

Flushing, he demanded, "What's that supposed to me?"

"I thought it was nice too," she answered with a chuckle. "I was just acting pissy to fluster you a bit. For fun!"

Farley rolled his eyes and groaned. "Alexis!"

Still vibrating with silent laughter against him, Alexis looked up. "You really didn't feel a spark, though?" she questioned, eyes showing her fear.

"Not a bit," he answered.

She put a hand to her heart. "Good," she sighed.

Farley had to agree.

"Hey, since we're done fixing your crisis, how about we head in? I'm beginning to get a bit cold," Farley suggested to her.

"That sounds lovely," Alexis concurred.

And together, they slowly made their way back to Hogwarts warm halls, the kiss just as easily left behind them as the snow angel Farley had worked so hard on.

* * *

 **Thoughts? This will be as close as these two ever come to being a couple, I'll point out now. Also, remember if you ever see any errors or don't agree with something, you are welcome to point it out to be fixed or reconsidered!**

 **Also , remember chapter are being dated in the index with the point at which they were added to _Growing up Goyle._ I hope this will help with any confusion you guys might feel due to how I arrange chapters upon uploading them to keep the timeline in order.**

 **Thank you all for reading and please review!**


	25. Page Three and a Sick Mother 10-7-15

_**Page Three**_ _ **and a Sick Mother**_

* * *

Lazing about on Chip Cornfoot's bed in their dorm as they did their own things, Farley was close to finishing up a letter to his parents when a balled-up sock hit him in the face.

Scrunching his nose, he turned his head to glare at the smirking Chip. "What was that for?" he demanded.

His fellow fourteen-year-old's smile only became more impish as he told Farley, "Come here once."

"Why?" Farley asked even while he moved to sit up and scoot over to Chip's side.

Pulling out what appeared to be a magazine, the blonde asked, "How much do you know about muggle stuff?"

"Are you kidding?" Farley returned, giving Chip a truly perplexed frown.

This drew a laugh from the other boy. "That dumb of a question, huh?"

"My parents _are_ Gregory and Millicent Goyle, you realize. My last name isn't just a coincidence," he huffed as he perched himself right beside Chip.

Shrugging as he fiddled with the tabloid that Farley could now tell was named _The Sun_ , Chip said, "Wasn't one hundred percent sure. You _are_ a Hufflepuff, and friends with Alexis Abbott…"

"Times are changing," Farley muttered.

Nodding, Chip remarked, "Then I guess you've never heard of _The Sun_ , huh?"

"No."

Grinning as he flipped back the cover page, Chip explained, "Well, it's kind of infamous, in the muggle world, you see."

"Why's that?" Farley questioned, wishing that the other boy would just get to the point.

"It's because of this!" Chip declared, turning the page to reveal a smiling, topless woman.

Farley gaped.

Laughing, the blonde said, "I bet this is the first time you've seen something like this, huh?"

"Muggles let teenagers buy this kind thing?" Farley demanded as he took the tabloid from Chip, ogling the picture of the woman.

Chip shifted. "Well, not quite. A cousin of mine sent me the copy he bought a couple weeks ago for my birthday."

"You already had your birthday?" Farley cried, finally ripping his gaze away from the ample bosom printed on the page.

The boy gave a quick dip of his head. "It was the second of September, actually. Don't worry, though. I didn't really know you and Alexis then. But seeing as we're shaping up to be pretty good mates, you can just buy me two Christmas presents rather than one!" he finished with a wink.

Farley laughed. Chip was pretty brilliant, he thought. Plus, he was more clever than the rest of the Hufflepuffs he'd had the misfortune of rooming with for the last three years. The last clever person he'd had the pleasure of talking with was Ulyssa and that had been _years_ ago.

He might not be all the sharp himself, but it didn't mean Farley couldn't appreciate it.

"How are you not in Ravenclaw?" he inquired as he handed _The Sun back_ to Chip (though, he'd have to keep an eye out for any more he might get).

Chip shrugged. "The hat said I had the brains for it, but I told it I'd rather be in my mother's house. She's sick, you see. I knew it'd really make her happy if I went to Hufflepuff."

Farley nodded. "If you don't mind me asking, why did you go to Durmstrang at all? Surely you could have come by portkey here or something?" he questioned.

"I could have," Chip agreed. "But, I wanted to be close to my mum, because it's like I said, she's sick. We moved back to Britain due to that and the fact she's been getting worse. My dad also wants her to be close to her family in case she doesn't get better."

"You don't think she'll get better?" Farley whispered, feeling his heart give a sympathetic little squeeze.

Chip looked away. Curling his knees close to his chest, the boy laid his head on his knees and sighed. "I want her to," he confided in Farley. "Really, really badly," he mumbled. "But the healers think she could go either way at this point, so, we're preparing for the worst."

Gnawing at his lip, Farley considered what he should say. A stupid "I'm sorry" just didn't seem right. It also didn't help that Farley was out of his depth. He knew very little about sick, dying people and even much less about parents you were actually afraid to lose. However, Farley did know someone Chip could talk to about this.

"You should really talk to Alexis. I know she's a girl and all, but - don't tell her I said this - her mum's dead. I'm sure she must know at least a little better what you're feeling than I do."

Eyes puffy as he looked back at Farley, Chip mumbled, "You think?"

"I know."

Cracking a wobbly smile, the blonde dipped his head in thanks. "You're a good bloke, Farley Goyle," he said.

A warm feeling creeping up his neck, Farley turned away. "It's no trouble, Chip."

"Still, thanks a heap, mate."

Ducking his head in bashfulness, Farley looked back to the tabloid laying on the bed. "Got any more of those?" he asked Chip, hoping they could back to the lighthearted chatter of before.

Chuckling, Chip twisted around to reach under his bed. "A stack worth," he answered as he pulled out a box.

Laughing himself, Farley said, "Let's have a look see at them all, then!"

* * *

 **Thoughts on this chapter? I think this was the first one where I've written about Chip and Farley alone.**

 **How do you like these two together? How about Chip in general?**

 **Also** **, don't forget that all new chapters are dated in the index to ensure that you can always find the latest chapter even after it has been reordered to follow the linear timeline I have going on!**

 **Thank you guys for reading and please review!  
**


	26. Just Another Goyle

**_Just Another Goyle_**

* * *

"Keep the line orderly, girls and boys. One at a time, now. Well, aren't you a brave one Miss Lee? Going first are you?" Professor Grimmett prattled as he finished organizing the fourth year DADA class into something like a line.

From his spot behind Chip, Farley shifted uneasily. He wasn't excited for today's lesson. They were going to face a Boggart and practice their _Riddikulus_ charm. Unfortunately for Farley, he was not the kind of person with an imagination - so, the chances of him figuring out something funny to turn his fear into were quite slim.

The other issue was he didn't even _know_ what his greatest fear was. He was pretty scared of small spaces, but he didn't think a Boggart would be able to box him in one, so the chances of that being it were unlikely. He was also pretty terrified of his father when he was yelling, but not so afraid that he thought it would be what the Boggart became.

"Stop swaying like that, Farley," Alexis complained from behind him. "I want to see what Shannon turns the Boggart into!"

He stiffened. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Chip turned his head, eyes bright with curiosity. "What are you so worked up about? I thought Transfiguration was the only thing that made you squirm," he said.

Farley shrugged his shoulders helplessly. He didn't really know what to say. It'd probably sound stupid if he tried to explain, anyway. A lot of the class was probably nervous about facing the Boggart. His reason for facing it felt pretty trivial to him.

"It's just, you know, I don't know how good I'll be at the spell..." he explained.

Alexis gave his hand a squeeze. "Just start thinking of something funny now, Farley. Because even if you forget it for a moment up there, at least you'll have it when your wits come back."

Farley smiled at his friend. "You're right, as always," he replied.

Alexis preened under the compliment. A twinkle coming to her smile. "Why thank you for realizing that!" she giggled.

Chuffing his own amusement, Farley turned his head forward and started thinking hard. Surely he could come up with _something_ between now and his turn?

-v-v-v-v-v-

Finely wrinkled face pleasant, Professor Grimmett gave the box holding the Boggart a pat as he gestured Farley forward.

"Come on now, Mister Goyle. Let's not dawdle now," he said with a smile lilting at the corners of his lips. His fingers were already curling around the lid of the Boggart's box as Farley took a step forward and raised his wand.

Feeling a sweat break out on the back of his neck, Farley closed his eyes as he prayed to his father's God, ' _please, oh please, don't let me make a fool of myself Lord...'_

When he opened them, he saw the lid was open and it was within the split second following that his greatest, deepest fear came into being.

There was a grave.

It was the same as the grave his Grandmother had been bestowed upon her passing last winter. It was just like the graves of his great grandparents and even those before them - a trademark Goyle grave.

What caused his mouth to drop open, though, was the birthdate upon the grave. January seventh two thousand six. The death date didn't even really matter to him - not as much as what else it held.

All the grave said beside his birth and death date was _Goyle_.

It was _horrible_.

Out of everything Farley feared in life, this had to be it. Dying and only being remembered as another, faceless Goyle. Essentially a nobody.

Jaw moving mechanically, he tried to find his voice as he began to mouth, " _Riddikulus, Riddikulus, Riddikulus…_ "

However, his lips never managed a sound.

Finally, Professor Grimmett took pity and stepped forward. The Boggart changed shape, becoming a tall dark silhouette with a bone-white face - a Death Eater. Then, he shouted, " _Riddikulus_!" and it became troll on a unicycle, laughing at a manic pitch.

Putting a hand on Farley's shoulder, the professor said, "I guess you'll just have to give it another go next time, eh, Mister Farley?"

He nodded, but knew that he'd be skipping their next several DADA classes rather than perchance have to go through this again. Having his deepest fear revealed to him had shaken Farley to his very core and he was now questioning everything about himself.

Had Farley not been making progress in separating himself from his family name? He'd thought he had been, but maybe not enough for his subconscious.

Walking away from the front of the room and back toward his desk, he heard Rose Weasley muttering to her friend, Adeline White, "What kind of fear is a gravestone? Is he afraid of dying?"

The other girl leaned in and mumbled back, "It could be that. Though, I never got to see what the headstone said from here…"

"Yes, well, if it _is_ death he fears, I hope it's not a bad sign. _Voldemort_ feared dying, you know. And his family _did_ support that vile man, you know," she hissed back in reply as Farley passed her by.

Ignoring the pair, he took his seat beside Chip and stared ahead at nothing.

"Hey, mate, it's okay, you know? You weren't the first one not to be able to do it," the blond muttered to him.

Absently, Farley nodded. "I do know," he answered. "I just - I wasn't expecting that," he told Chip.

The other boy asked, "What _were_ you expecting then?"

Farley, at a loss, could only shake his head. "I don't know…Not _that_."

"Uh-huh," Chip muttered, giving him a quizzical look.

He knew his friend was confused and wanted to ask more questions, but Farley was glad he knew better than to. He didn't know how he'd deal with them, nor did he know if he had any answer at all that would satisfy Chip. Slumping in his chair, he closed his eyes and just tried to clear his mind.

In twenty minutes, he'd be on his way to Care of Magical Creatures and he could forget this whole mess.

* * *

 **Thoughts on Farley's fear? Does it make sense given what you know about him?**

 **Thank you all a ton for reading and please review!**


	27. Do Anything

_**Do Anything**_

* * *

As he waltzed through Hogwarts dark corridors, Farley knew he should be paying better attention to his surroundings. Yet he just couldn't bring himself to. He blamed it on the pot him, Chip and Alexis had been smoking. It had made everything beyond playing the Rockin' Randolphs's latest single "Summertime" on repeat in his head inconsequential.

Running his fingers along the stone walls of Hogwarts, Farley quietly sang a line to himself.

" _Love, maybe we only got the summer, but we're gonna make it the time of our lives; oh yeah, oooh yeeaah..._ "

Pausing midstep, Farley frowned. He pondered how he'd not even gone out with a girl - let alone have a summertime romance with one. It was embarrassing, he thought, to be fifteen and never have had a date with a girl.

He was lucky him and Alexis had gotten their first kiss out of the way in their third year. It meant he wasn't a _complete_ weirdo, at least. Turning so his back was against the wall, Farley grumbled, "Stupid Cornfoot. Coulda asked Alexis to be my girlfriend if he'd stayed at Durmstrang..."

Farley didn't mean that, of course. Well, not _too_ much. Him and Alexis were good friends, but he'd never really been attracted to her in any major way. Sure, sometimes he thought her hair looked especially shiny or that she smelled good. Though, he thought that about a lot of girls.

Besides, he was still holding out hope that maybe someday Hema would notice him. Not that it was likely, he knew. Hema was quite happy as Hugo Weasley's girlfriend. It also didn't look like that would be changing anytime soon. Merlin, with the way they looked at each other, they could end up married before they even finished their education at Hogwarts!

He shook himself out of unpleasant, unhappy thoughts that revolved around Hema. He knew she didn't think of him as anything beyond a housemate. Sighing, he decided he should take the shortcut back to the Hufflepuff dorm. It would do for him to go to bed before he became anymore depressed

Farley veered left at the end of the hall. He laughed into his hand as he thought about how Chip and Alexis would react when they realized he'd snuck off. It would serve them right, he thought. The drawn-out snogging session they had been having was too disgusting for him to wait to end. He doubted would notice his absence for a while yet. When they did, they'd think little of it, though. They all knew he had a habit of wandering outside when he was high. But even if it didn't panic them, it would still cause them a great deal of annoyance. After all, they'd have to do a sweep of the grounds to see if he was out there before going back to the Hufflepuff dorms. If he got caught out after hours and high, they'd be in trouble too. Everyone knew they were a tight trio and that it was unlikely that Farley would get high on a muggle drug on his own. He was a pureblood, after all. That was why he'd decided to go back to the dorms when his friends had started making out in the first place. If he got himself to bed, it would keep them from getting in trouble. But more importantly, maybe Farley would fall asleep before the walls started feeling like the were closing in on him.

He didn't know why, but Farley's minor claustrophobia had a way of flaring to extreme levels when he smoked pot. It didn't happen every time, or even most of the time (thank God). But when it did, it was because he was left to his own devices while under the influence for too long. Something about pot had a way of getting to him. It could be because it caused his surroundings to spin sometimes. Or maybe it had to due with the fact he started to feel too big for not only his clothes, but also for the room.

Whatever the reason was, it never took long once his claustrophobia gripped him for him to walk off. The smart thing to do would be to stop smoking, he knew, but Farley was far from smart. Farley was stubborn. He ignore the side affects. This was because when it wasn't setting off his claustrophobia, it was putting him on a plane where everything was so much brighter. His life didn't feel so pathetic anymore and his future didn't look as bleak as it usually did.

If fact, when he was high, Farley felt like he could do just about anything.

"I could ask Hema out," he muttered to himself.

His mind's eye filling with her pretty smile, Farley paused for a moment. "Shoulda asked her when I had the chance," he told himself ruefully as he let out a deep sigh.

It was while shaking his shaggy locks that Farley caught something from the corner of his eye. Frowning as his heartbeat picked up speed, Farley feared the worst. Was he caught? Had a professor or prefect spied him walking down the hall? Turning his head, the teenager was quite prepared to face the music for being out after hours. But his feeling of dread was replaced in a flash with a feeling of shock instead.

"What...?" he whispered.

In the shadows of a statue, Albus Potter was snogging with a redhead. There were many redheads at Hogwarts - most of them Weasleys - but the fact she was wearing Gryffindor robes narrowed it down to two options. Either the girl was Wendy Hopkins or Rose Weasley. Both were ridiculous, of course, Wendy was going out with Otto Boot and Rose Weasley was his cousin.

Gaping, Farley watched the girl's hair slide away from her face.

"No!" he couldn't help but half-shout.

The two jerked, pulling apart as if burned.

"Goyle!" Weasley barked. "What are you doing out here?"

Panic gripping him, Farley touched his face with his clammy hands. "Am I hallucinating? Merlin, I know you can have a bad trip, but this is nuts!" he exclaimed.

Pointing his wand at him, Potter ordered in a wavering tone, "Don't you dare move, Goyle!"

Farley didn't. There was something crazed about the other boy's eyes. And while Farley knew he was a daft bugger, he did have a sense of self-preservation.

Approaching at a careful pace with his wand raised, Potter hissed, "You won't tell anybody about what you've seen. Or, you won't if you know what's good for you."

"Albus!" Weasley decried. "You're just going to make him angry, threatening him like that!"

Farley was the farthest thing from angry, though. He was just confused. Why were they snogging? Was one of them actually adopted? Or...Did they have some kind of cousin-kink?

Before Potter could become stupid thanks to being scared by the idea of him becoming mad, Farley said, "I'm not angry. Just kind of confused. Why are you two making out in the shadows when you're supposed to be patrolling, Weasley? And then, either you could have your pick of the lads and girls at Hogwarts; so, why you're snogging I don't know. Once more, I'm just very confused here."

This seemed to sooth Potter as he lowered his wand before pocketing it with one last glare. Beckoning Weasley to his side, Potter weaved their fingers together. Then he said, "I think you just hit it on the head, Goyle. We _could_ have anyone we wanted here at Hogwarts...but that doesn't mean who we'd pick would love us. In fact, we _have_ taken our pick before. Neither of us came out happy from those relationships. Later, when we realized that we might never find someone that was going to love us as we wanted, we gave up."

A small smile coming to her lips, Weasley gave Potter an adoring look. "It was when we were commiserating about our bad luck in love that we realized something, you see. We'd been looking for love in all the wrong places when we already had it. _We_ love each other. We love each other so much..." she said.

"And that's all there is to it," Potter concluded with finality.

It still didn't make sense to him, but Farley figured he better let this go and just forget it. At least he should if he didn't want to end up on the botched-up end of a poorly done Memory Charm.

Nodding after a moment, he said with care, "Ah, I see."

"You don't," Weasley replied in a breezy tone. "But that's okay, we don't blame you."

Smiling in agreement at his cousin, Potter told him, "Just keep this to yourself."

"Planned to," he muttered. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go to bed."

"Of course."

Careful in the way he turned his back on them, Farley walked quickly down the hall. All the while he thought, ' _I might be the son of the infamous Gregory Goyle, but at least my fame hasn't messed_ me _up so bad that I'd consider snogging my cousin!_ '

Once at the end of the hall, he cast a look back over his shoulder. The two weren't watching him anymore, nor had they gone back to making out. Instead, they just stood hand in hand, staring out one of Hogwarts long windows at the full moon. And it was at that moment Farley understood. He would do anything to have someone he truly loved to stare out at the moon with - even break taboo.

* * *

 **I'm sure some of you might be a little repulsed at this point, but I think the addition of RosexAlbus was helpful in showing just how lonely being the children of such famous people like, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Gregory Goyle can be.**

 **As to those of you who are familiar with this pairing thanks to my other works like, _Together_ and _Trying to Kill Rapture_ , I'd be very happy to hear your thoughts on its inclusion in this story.**

 **Thank you guys for reading and please remember to review :)**


	28. Hannah Alexis Abbott 11-26-15

_**Hannah Alexis Abbott**_

* * *

Lounging comfortably on the sofas of Abbott's drawing room, Farley, Chip and Alexis talked idly about nothing and everything. Reaching for the pitcher of pumpkin juice set out of the way on one the end tables on either side of the sofa, Farley poured himself a fresh glass as he tuned back into Alexis's chatter about her run-in with one of her "nemeses".

"-then _I_ said that she was a tacky bitch and _she_ said I-"

"Hannah Alexis Abbot!" thundered Alexis's father from behind them.

Face paling drastically, Alexis scrambled out of her boyfriend's lap and stood up. Turning around, she sent her father a wide smile. "Yes, Daddy?" she asked in a false sugary tone.

Craning his neck, Farley watched the man wave around an empty liquor bottle along with what appeared to be a pair of men's underwear. Then Alexis's usually mild-mannered father demanded, "What the bloody hell is this shite I found under your bed!"

"That little _slag_ ," Alexis hissed beneath her breath.

Face crimson now, Mister Abbot growled, " _What did you say_?"

"Sheba must have _borrowed_ my room a couple weeks back when I was over at Tia's for the night," she said, looking quite upset herself now.

Waving around the empty bottle and underwear some more, her father stared straight at her as he asked, "Are you lying to me, Hannah Alexis Abbott? Because if you are-"

" _No,_ Dad, I'm not," she cut in, answer firm. "I _hate_ blueberry schnapps. If I want something fruity I'll go knick some wine from Aunt Hannah's place."

Looking a little less furious at her answer, Mister Abbott put down his arm holding the empty schnapps bottle and held out his hand with the balled up knickers. "What about _these_?" he questioned, sending a rather nasty glare at the wide-eyed Chip.

Rolling her eyes, Alexis went and grabbed Chip by the arm. Stumbling to his feet at his girlfriend's urging, the blonde stood dumbly in her grip as Hannah pulled up Chip's shirt. "He wears shorts, Dad," she explained, finger pointing to where the waistband of Chip's underwear rose above his jeans.

Flushing in embarrassment, Chip yanked his shirt back down and pulled himself out of Alexis's grip. Taking a seat next to Farley, he mumbled, "I can't believe she _did_ that!"

"I'm sorry, love," Mister Abbott apologized. His face wasn't crimson anymore, but there was a certain look of determination to it. "I think I'll be going to wait for your sister's return in the kitchen."

Nodding, Alexis said to him, "Wicked. Hey, Dad? When you're giving her what for, can you make sure you bitch at her for using my room while your at it? It's bad enough she used my bed, but _leaving_ that stuff in there? Yuck."

"I couldn't agree more," her father replied. "Kids, why don't you go out for a bit? I don't think you'll want to be here for Sheba's lecture."

"Okay, Dad," Alexis agreed with a smile. Grabbing both Farley and Chip by their wrists, she dragged them from the couch and said, "Come on lazy bums, we got to scram."

Allowing themselves to be lead from Hannah's home, it was a little less than a few minutes later they were just another trio of teenagers meandering the busy streets of Hogsmeade. As they walked, it didn't take long for Chip to take Alexis's hand and soon, they were all talking like the incident at Alexis's never occurred.

However, even as Alexis began to retell the story of her encounter with Opal Montague from a couple days ago at Madam Puddifoot's, something about the confrontation still bothered Farley.

"Alexis…" he began.

She paused mid-step. "Yeah, Farley?" she asked.

"Your father…He called you _Hannah_ Alexis Abbott," Farley said.

Chip nodded. "He's right, he did call you _Hannah_."

"Oh Merlin," Alexis sighed.

Grinning a little now, Farley poked her in the side with his elbow as he questioned, "So, we didn't mishear then? Your name _is_ Hannah?"

A scowl marring her usually pleasant features, the girl nodded. "Yeah," she answered grudgingly. "You can blame my mother for that one. She was pureblood, you know? Names _matter_ to them - which I'm sure you know extremely well, Farley Goyle. My mum changed in a lot of ways between her family disowning her and my parents having me, but that was one thing she didn't let go of.

"Since Mum had always been so grateful to Aunt Hannah for being a friend to her during those first couple years after her disownment, my mum named _me_ Hannah. Thankfully, Dad managed to wrangle out of her an agreement where he got to pick mine and Sheba's middle names. Because, if he hadn't, can you imagine the confusion we'd have had? Aunt Hannah and I would have never known who's attention Dad, Sheba or Uncle Neville were trying to get."

"During our Sorting, though, the deputy Headmaster called for _Alexis_ Abbott, not _Hannah_ Alexis Abbott," Farley pointed out.

Hannah laughed. "There are some perks to having Uncle Neville at Hogwarts," she remarked. "He was able to change it for me."

"Why'd you have him do that, Alexis?" Chip asked.

She pursed her lips. "I hate my first name," she said. "I mean, it's not like I think it's _ugly_ or anything, but there's too much already attached to it for me. It's Aunt Hannah's name. When people say Hannah I think of her. When someone says _Alexis_ …I think of me. I know it's _my_ name, not someone else's, you know?"

"I know," Chip agreed quickly. A wide grin on his face, he reminded them, "My name _is_ Stephen. Just like my dad. I totally get why you'd want to go by something… _different_. The only reason I go by Chip is because Mum hated calling me Junior, but thought I was just like Dad."

"Chip off the old block, right?" Alexis said with a giggle.

He nodded. "That's right," he concurred.

Listening to them talk about family and names, Farley felt alone. He didn't have any connections like that to his own family. Unlike a lot of other pureblood families, his parents had made the decision to give him a name that wasn't connected to the Goyle or Bulstrode past - believing it would do him better in the future.

So far, he had to admit, they'd been right. But even so, Farley wished he _did_ have a stronger connection to his heritage. It wasn't a beautiful, heroic or even forgettable one like so many of his peers, but at least it was a story worth knowing. There was a lot to be learned from his ancestors and their mistakes. Sometimes, though, Farley feared that their mistakes would be forgotten since he felt so little connection to them.

The disconnect would only be worse for any children he might have, he knew. They'd forget more with every generation where they came from and eventually, Farley feared, they'd begin to make the same mistakes. Follow the same dark paths and prove once in for all that Goyles never changed.

* * *

 **What are your thoughts on this little scene? I feel it's fairly amusing for the most part. Though, Farley's musing at the end there end it on a bit of a darker tone…**

 **Also , remember chapter are being dated in the index with the point at which they were added to _Growing up Goyle._ I hope this will help with any confusion you guys might feel due to how I arrange chapters upon uploading them to keep the timeline in order.**

 **Thank you very much for reading and please review :)**


	29. Fair Splendor

_**Fair Splendor**_

* * *

Pursing his lips, Farley recalled how Chip told him to dress in a more muggle fashion for the day. Unfortunately for Farley, he didn't really have any clothes that met his friend's requirements. He knew well that muggles didn't dress with same amount of decorum as magical folk. He'd even seen this first hand, thanks to the muggleborn student populous. Their insistence in walking around in pajamas and ratty sweats during the weekends boggled Farley to no end. Even after witnessing this for the past five years, it still made him wrinkle his nose in distaste. If his mother were to see them, she just might breath fire as she ranted about how disrespectful and cavalier mudbloods had become.

Taking in the slacks, button downs, sweaters and leather shoes that made up his closet, Farley sighed. He doubted any real muggle teen would dress in any of the clothes that he owned to go to a fair. It made him, once again, lament on how unfair it was that he wasn't allowed to use magic at home. Eventually, Farley decided that a striped polo and a pair of tan slacks would have to do.

Dressing quickly, Farley grabbed his wallet from his bedside table. He then hurried from his room and toward the kitchen, where the hearth connected to the Floo Network was. He was to floo to Alexis's home and from there, together, they would floo to Chip's home. It'd be easier if he could just go straight to Chip's place, but his parents would never let him go anywhere again if he did. And if they knew he spent so much time at Chip's? He could say goodbye to his social life.

The Cornfoots were in his mother and father's bad book due to the fact his father had married a muggleborn. It was bad enough that they knew Alexis, who was still not completely approved of, was dating him. If his parents learned he considered Chip a friend, and that the other boy liked to show him and Alexis around muggle Bristol, they'd forbid Farley from ever seeing Alexis and Chip again. At which point, he knew his parents would pull him from Hogwarts. After that, Farley would be sent to a smaller, public school. Most likely it would be one of the schools that had popped up in the last two decades. Most of these public schools had opened shortly after the war. At the time, there had been a surge in demand for schools that were more"selective" in who they allowed to walk their halls.

It was almost a miracle his parents hadn't sent him to one to begin with, he knew.

After all, while these public schools may not be held in the same prestige as Hogwarts (or any of the other big name schools of Europe, for that matter) it didn't matter for Farley's future. His parents may have just begun talking about him learning how to run his mother's family's shop, but he suspected they'd been planning his future long before now. Even though Farley didn't actually want to take over the shop, he didn't believe he'd be allowed to refuse at this point either. So, he figured it was best to keep his opinions to himself and accept what fate had dealt him. Who knows? Maybe when his parents were dead he could sell it.

Reaching the kitchen, he took a quick glance around to see if his mother was around. If he ran into her, she'd ask a lot of questions. She might even feel concerned enough to make him carry out some kind of chore to keep him from seeing Alexis and Chip.

Relieved when he didn't see her, he started to make a beeline toward the hearth. But that was when he heard a voice from behind call, "Farley? Where are you going?"

The teenager jumped.

Turning around, he looked to the ground when he saw his mother frown at him.

"Just going to Alexis's," he said.

She sighed. "Will that Cornfoot boy be there?"

"No, Alexis didn't say anything about him being there," he answered truthfully.

His mother narrowed her eyes and said, "I was going to go visit Misses Flint today. Are you sure you wouldn't rather come with me to see her? I hear Ulyssa is there visiting."

Farley bit his lip. His mother and Misses Flint didn't know about his fallout with Ulyssa. Ulyssa and him had never said anything either. They didn't want to make their families feel awkward about their broken friendship. When they did see each other outside of Hogwarts, they always made sure to keep up a cordial facade. Otherwise, they did their best to avoid one another.

When Farley found himself in a melancholy mood, he'd reflect on their lost friendship. He'd always liked Ulyssa, but she'd wanted nothing to do with him after he had been sorted to Hufflepuff. He had tried many times to get her to talk with him during the first few weeks of school. But after she hexed him to have his toenails grow at an accelerated pace, Farley got the message. Ulyssa wanted him to leave her alone.

After that incident, Farley had avoided her just as much as she did him.

"No thanks, I'd hate to leave Alexis hanging," he told his mother.

She crinkled her nose. "Hanging? Merlin, Farley, talk like the proper young man I raised you to be!" she reprimanded.

Farley flushed. "Sorry, Mother," he whispered. "Can I please go now?"

Mother gave a quiet sigh. "Yes, go," she replied.

"Thank you!"

And a moment later, Farley was shouting his destination as he threw down his fistful of powder.

-v-v-v-v-v-

When Chip saw them, upon walking out of his family's fireplace, he crinkled his nose until it looked more like a pig snout.

"What are you wearing, Farley?" he demanded. "Did you forget what I told you about dressing like a normal teenager?"

Face reddening in embarrassment, Farley shrugged his shoulders. It was at this point Alexis moved forward to slap her boyfriend's shoulder. "Shut it, Chip!" Alexis hissed. "It's not his fault his parents still live in 1997!"

The mousy blond blinked. Then, features shifting into something more apologetic, he seemed to realize what Alexis was getting at. "Ah, right. Hey, why don't we go check out my closet? I'm sure we can find something in there you can wear instead," he offered.

Farley looked down at his toes and then to Chip. "That'd be great, but I'm...and you..." he babbled, pointing at Chip's rather scrawny physique and then to his own, tall, husky one.

"My parents are a witch and wizard, Farley. They can resize the clothes."

Laughing a little, Farley bobbed his head. "Yeah, right, sorry," he apologized as he followed Chip along with Alexis out of the room and to his bedroom.

A few minutes later, Farley was going through the messy contents of Chip's closet. While he and Alexis, on the other hand, chatted about their upcoming trip to the fair behind him.

"I've never been to a muggle one, is it like a wizard fair?" Alexis questioned.

Spinning around in his desk chair, Chip made a confusing noise that sounded shocked. "Weeell..." he began, "The games are a lot like wizard ones. That's where the similarities end, though. Instead of watching people do acrobatics on brooms, and letting your kids go on winged-pony rides, you go on this giant wheel that lift you up in the air. And on other rides, like Merry Go Rounds where you ride fake horses and other things."

"Why would you want to ride a fake horse when you can ride a real one?" Farley inquired, while deciding on a simple white shirt to wear. It'd taken him a while to find it as it'd been behind Chip's many band and slogan shirts.

Chip gave an amused laugh. "It cost less for the fair people to transport and keep it running, I guess. Besides, kids like it just the same. So it's not like they're really being cheated out of anything," he argued.

Holding out the shirt he'd picked to his friend, he said, "This one will do, I think."

Both Alexis and Chip raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think you'd like a pair of shorts and maybe some more comfortable shoes, Farley? We will be there all day, after all." Alexis reminded him in her patient, 'someone's making a poor decision' voice.

Sighing, Farley didn't deign to answer her. Instead, he turned back to the closet and had another go through Chip's clothes.

-v-v-v-v-v-

"So, what's your first impression?" Chip asked with a wide grin.

Alexis closed her gaping mouth. Then she opened it for a second time without making a sound, before finally speaking. "This is...rather chaotic. isn't it?" she whispered.

"A little," Chip agreed.

Farley, taking in all the people milling about, felt a question bubble to the forefront of his mind. "Are muggle fairs always so busy?" he asked.

Chip grinned. "This one is," he answered with a small amount of pride. "This is the best fair Bristol hosts every year."

"Ah," Farley answered. "Say, where's that giant wheel you were talking about earlier? I'd like to check that out."

Throwing a friendly arm up and around Farley's shoulders, Chip pointed toward the sky. "See that moving thing there with the little rainbow chairs? That's the Ferris Wheel," he told him.

Alexis made a noise of excitement. "Oh! Let's go do that now!" she demanded. "I bet you can see the whole grounds from the top of it!"

"Yeah, for the most part," Chip agreed with a laugh. "First we'll have to go buy tickets. You guys can just pay me back with wizard money later, okay?"

Pouting, Alexis whined, "Aren't boyfriends supposed to pay for stuff like this?"

An impish grin curving his lips, Chip leaned in close to Alexis and murmured, "Maybe. Though, don't you think you should offer something awfully sweet back in return?"

Giggling, the girl leaned into her boyfriend and wrapped her arms around him to kiss him soundly on the lips. Farley rolled his eyes heavenward. He prayed to God they wouldn't be kissing every five minutes while they were at the carnival.

-v-v-v-v-v-

Peering over his feet at the ground below, Farley found he wasn't impressed by the Ferris Wheel. He cast a look sideways. Farley was sure that it also had something to do with the fact that Chip and Alexis had decided to use the ride's malfunction to their advantage. They'd decided about twenty minutes ago that snogging was the best way to pass time while they waited.

Farley couldn't say he agreed.

Puffing out a breath, Farley pushed back his hair from his face as a breeze blew by. He hoped that there was something more exciting than this rip-off of a ride at the Fair.

Feeling the ride give a lurch, the teenager sent a silent thank you to the Lord. Squeezed the safety bar keeping them in their seat, he smiled in relief. Turning his head, he frowned at how the two were still lip-locked. "Guys? We're going down now. If you plan to take a last look at all of the park, Alexis, Chip, I'd do it now," he told them.

The two did not separate. Sighing, Farley glowered down at the people waiting in line for the Ferris Wheel. He prayed that they would be back on the ground before he reached one hundred in his head.

-v-v-v-v-v-

"We should do that one again!" Farley exclaimed as they met up at the ride's exit.

Alexis raised an eyebrow. "You're only saying that because you liked that you got to drive a mini-muggle car and hit other mini-muggle cars."

Farley frowned at the girl. "So? That was the point of the ride, right?" he asked.

Laughing, Chip wrapped his arm around Alexis and remarked, "Don't mind her, Farley. There's a reason she wants to be a healer, after all. She's of the nonviolent persuasion. Say, Alexis, how about you go buy us something from that concession stand over there and the two of us will go at it one more time?" he suggested with a hopeful look.

Catching on, Farley pinned Alexis with a similar look and together, the two boys waited for her to cave.

Arms falling to her side, the girl pouted as she pulled away from Chip. "Fine," she agreed. "But this will be the last time you go on this ride, got it?"

Farley and Chip bumped fists as they enthusiastically thanked her. "Thanks, Alexis!"

"What a woman you are, Alexis!"

Rolling her eyes, the girl walked off. Smirking impishly, Chip questioned, "How many more times do you bet we can do the Bumper Cars before she puts her foot down?"

Farley smiled back. "Given how easily she falls for your puppy dog eyes, I'd say at least another three rounds."

"You're on!" Chip declared. "Loser has to ride the Waltzer with a stomach full of hot dogs!"

And soon enough, they found, just as Farley had guessed, that Alexis would let them do three rounds before she stomped her foot and told them they were being a couple of pricks.

Later, when it came time for to fulfill his side of the bargain, Farley couldn't have been more pleased. The color Chip's face turned while on the Walzter was on a spectrum of green that he'd been sure only a metamorphmagus would be able to reach. His subsequent up-chucking on Alexis's shoes may not have been part of the plan, but even after that, Farley had to admit that going to a muggle carnival had been a lot more fun than he'd expected it to be.

He also wouldn't mind coming again sometime.

-v-v-v-v-v-

"What did you do today at Abbott's home, Farley?" Mother asked over supper.

Stirring his spoon in his bowl of stew as his Mother slapped Father's hand for slurping, Farley shrugged. "The usual, I guess," he answered. "We did some flying and worked on a bit of summer homework."

His mother looked torn between approval and smugness. "While working on homework was an excellent way to spend your time with Abbott, you truly missed out on a treat today. Misses Flint took myself and Ulyssa to a matinee play of the Peverell Brothers's story. It was well done and I'm sure you would have enjoyed it as well," she proclaimed.

"I bet I would have too," Farley replied amicably as he thought of the even better day he'd had with his two friends at the muggle fair.

A play would have been nice, but it would have never beaten the boundless discoveries and joys he experienced at the carnival with Alexis and Chip.

* * *

 **This one has to be the longest I've written yet, I think. What did you think of Farley's experience? Of the antics him, Alexis and Chip got up to?**

 **Thank you all for reading and please review :)**


	30. A Graduation from Wrongs of the Past

_**A Graduation from Wrongs of the Past**_

* * *

"Mother, I have _plans_ ," Farley complained as he followed his mother from her bedroom to the hall.

Turning on her heels, his mother wagged her finger in Farley's face. "I don't want to hear it, Farley! This is Ulyssa's graduation party and you will be going!"

Farley, annoyed and unhappy with being told what to do, snapped, "She won't care! It's not like we're friends!"

His mother blinked. Confusion dimpling her forehead, Farley's mother murmured, "Of course you are. You have always gotten along splendidly."

"Mother-" Farley stopped. Why should he even bother explaining the complexities of post-war house relations to her? Or how no self respecting Slytherin would dare to hang out with a _Hufflepuff_? If she wanted to think they were the best of friends, he'd let her. "We aren't as _close_ as we used to be," he mumbled, looking at his feet. "I'd really like to go see Alexis instead, her sister just got a crup. We were going to help her name it...Can't I just sign Ulyssa's card and have you give her my congratulations?"

"No, Farley," his mother replied firmly. "You tell Alexis you won't be coming by today. This is Ulyssa's _graduation party._ I don't care if you aren't best mates any longer, this is the polite thing to do!"

Fighting back the urge to yell, Farley huffed loudly as he relented. "I'll go write Alexis," he told her before stalking off.

"Farley! While you're in your room, why don't you change into something a little more respectable! The _Zabinis_ and _Notts_ are going to be there!" his mother's low voice bellowed after him.

Rolling his eyes skyward, Farley muttered to himself, "Oh joy."

-v-v-v-v-v-

"There's Ulyssa! She's talking with Oliver River's son. Why don't you go say hello, Farley?" his mother hissed into his ear as they stepped through the Floo into the Flint home.

Sucking in a breath, Farley grunted, "Yes, Mother."

Giving him an expressive look as she hooked arms with Farley's father, Farley knew he better not dawdle. It was best he make this as quick and painless as possible. If he got his niceties out of the way, he could probably go sulk by the table of refreshments for the next hour or so.

Glancing over in the direction of the refreshments, Farley found himself quirking an eyebrow in surprise. Was that Freesia Parkinson over there? How had _she_ gotten into this party? Not only was she the illegitimate daughter of Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, she was known for the wildly unorthodox research papers she wrote on the link between squibs and the magical purity of the families they came from.

Suddenly, a man Farley recognized as being Elijah Cram's older brother, came up and kissed Parkinson on the lips. Ah, that was how, Farley noted with some disapproval. Parkinson had used her connection to the Crams to get into Ulyssa's Graduation party. Looking around a little more, he had to wonder if the Malfoys were here. If they were, he was sure there would be a scene. Despite the fact she practically lived off her father's fortune, Freesia loved to insult him and call him out for abandoning her mother.

Yes, Draco Malfoy may not have done the proper thing and married Pansy Parkinson when he should have, but he still took better care of Freesia and her mother than other, less scrupulous men might have done.

Noticing Yale River walk away from Ulyssa, Farley seized on his chance and moved in. Coming to her side, he said, "Congratulations."

"Thank you," the young woman replied. "I appreciate it - even if it's not sincere."

Farley frowned. "Of course it's sincere. It's not easy to graduate from Hogwarts," he sniped.

"I suppose you're right," Ulyssa replied. Then, flashing him a familiar mischievous smirk, she remarked, "My father is proof of that, isn't he?"

He barked a laugh in response. "Mine's not that much better," Farley said with a grin.

"We're lucky our mothers had half a brain or we'd probably be in the same situation as them," Ulyssa continued with a bright tone.

Farley nodded rapidly. "Most definitely!"

Ulyssa, face unusually open, admitted, "You know, I was always jealous of the fact your parents actually wanted you."

"I was always jealous of how you got to spend time with people who were happy to be together and treated you like you mattered all the time," he followed.

Fingering the white-gold necklace adorning her neck, Ulyssa gave a shaky giggle. "I'm glad I finally told you that," she said, "I'm leaving for Canada next week and I was afraid I'd never get to tell you."

"You're leaving for Canada?" Farley asked with surprise. "Why?"

Ulyssa gave Farley a small, sad smile. "What's here in Britain for me, Farley? My parents haven't made a good reputation for themselves - or our family - and I was in Slytherin. There aren't a lot of options for someone like me. I could probably get a job at the ministry as a pencil-pusher, but that's the last thing I want to do.

"In Canada, I have a nice little job lined up. There's an Inn there that needs a manager to run it and Uncle Ephram knows the owner. He put in a good word and the bloke agreed to let me on for a trial period for the next six months. It'll be nice, don't you think? To get away from all these people who know my family history so intimately...There, in nowheresville Canada, I'm going to get to be just _Ulyssa_. Doesn't it sound just wonderful, Farley?"

Swallowing thickly, he croaked, "It does."

Turning so she was facing him fully, Ulyssa, her pale face shadowed by her dark curls, leaned in and a placed a sweet kiss on his cheek. "I was always so mad with you for abandoning me to go to Hufflepuff, but I've really begun to realize lately what it was that you were doing all along. I'm not upset anymore and I don't blame you for trying to forge a new path for yourself and your family's name," she told him.

Fingers going to his cheek, Farley just stared at his childhood friend in wonder. Crossing her arms, Ulyssa just gazed tenderly at him. "You're a good bloke, Farley Goyle," she proclaimed after a long moment. "I hope you'll have a nice life."

"Thanks," he whispered.

Eyes shimmering with unsaid emotions, Ulyssa gave one last nod to Farley before turning away and walking off to talk to Opal Montague.

Standing there for a long time, Farley tried to pinpoint the odd feeling that was caught in his throat. Eventually, as he watched the partygoers mingle and snack on refreshments, he realized what choked him was a mixture of sorrow and relief. It was sad to know that this would probably be the last time he ever saw Ulyssa, but it was okay too. Things were finally right between them. Ulyssa had forgiven him for his betrayal all those years ago and even understood _why_ Farley had let himself go to Hufflepuff over Slytherin.

For once, Farley was glad that his mother had forced him to go to one of these gatherings.

* * *

 **Thoughts on how Farley and Ulyssa have concluded their relationship?**

 **Thank you guys for reading and please review!**


End file.
